Geek Love Clues
by ParadoxicalOne
Summary: [GSR] ... WIP ... A collage of snippets detailing clues of Grissom & Sara’s relationship that the rest of the team are left to interpret.
1. Cranky with Coffee

_Disclaimer_: Put the lawyer away! I'm not worth it. I'm just borrowing. _CSI_ belongs to CBS...

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**A/N 1 – **I'm not sure how long this will go on. I'll just be randomly adding little GSR snippets in here as I write them. Just my little vision of how the rest of them team will see the clues that Grissom & Sara leave behind about their relationship. 

**A/N 2 – **I don't believe they'll be posted in order, but I can't really be sure. There's no specific or well-timed reasoning as to how my brain will think these things up. So, just bear with me, and don't put too much stock in any timeline.

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Cranky with Coffee

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_( Ring ) ( Ring )_

The shrill ringing from both sides of the bed startled Sara out of her semi-conscious state. Sara rolled over into Grissom. She started grappling with the sheets attempting to pull them over her head. A dozing Grissom was curled into them, holding them down this his arms. Making due with what she had, Sara shoved her head under her pillow.

_( Ring ) ( __Ring )_

Both of their cell phones shrieking in harmony again priedGrissom from the edge of sleep. Grissom yanked the sheets over his head. The searing light from the windows was threatening to blind him. He rolled over and pushed his head into Sara's side and burrowed deeper into the bed.

_( Ring ) (__Ring )_

"Make it stop," Sara demanded through muffled tones from under the pillow.

"It'll only stop when we answer them, Honey," Grissom said into her side.

"That's the third time they've called. Can't they take a hint?" Sara gasped as she flung the pillow across the room. "I need sleep," she groaned.

"We both need sleep." Grissom put his arms around Sara tightly. "We could just turnthem off. It'll take forever for the batteries to die."

_( Ring ) (Ring )_

"Aaaaahhhhh!" Sara moaned.

"It has to be important. We can't ignore it much longer," Grissom whispered.

"We haven't slept in over fifty hours."

"Don't forget we've worked about forty of those," he sighed.

_( Ring ) (Ring )_

Sara grabbed the cell beside her. Grissom feared for the person on the other end. "What!" she demanded. Grissom's phone continued to ring, but Sara did not care.

"_Sara, it's Catherine. Where have you been? I've been trying to reach you fortwenty minutes."_

"Catherine, I was sleeping. No! I was attempting to sleep. Whatever it is, I'm not doing it. I'm not coming in. I need sleep." Her tone was ice cold.

"_Sara, I wouldn't call you if it wasn't completely necessary."_

"I haven't had a day off in almost two weeks, and I've been up for over fifty hours. There is nothing you can say to make me come in. I'm going back to bed now."

"_Sara, wait. I know you're tired. Hell, we all are. It's been tough lately, but we need everyone to come in. About an hour ago a bomb went off in the cafeteria during lunch at the High School. Eighteen people are dead, eleven are critically injured, and thirty- four are hurt." Catherine took a breath. "You didn't hear about it on the scanner?"_

"I wasn't listening to the scanner. It bothers Gr–me while I'm trying to sleep."

The chuckle beside her was almost annoying. They both knew it would have been hard to explain that little slip-up. Sara was far too tired to care, and far too tired to know what she was even saying.

"_How long until you get here?"_

"Catherine…" Sara whined.

"_I'll see you in thirty minutes. Oh, and have you talked to Grissom? I can't reach him either."_

"No, but I hope he's sleeping like I wish I was. Try harder, though. If I have to drag my sleep-deprived self in there, he better be heading in as well."

Sara snapped her phone shut and tossed it across the room where it fell beside the pillow. She pulled the covers over her head and let out a stifled scream.

"Honey, what is it?" Grissom asked.

"You'll find out in a second. Cath's going to call you."

"I guess I'll have to be surprised since you're clearly not going to tell me." He ran his hands around her body and grabbed her sides right below her ribs.

"Gris, you tickle me right now, and I swear I'll…" She closed her eyes and tensed her body waiting for the inevitable.

"You'll what?" He grinned and kissed the tip of her nose through the blanket.

"I'm too tried to think," she whined again.

Grissom rolled Sara over on her stomach and straddled her waist. He started rubbing her back. "So I heard. You almost told Catherine about us."

"I know. There's a point that I reach after no sleep that my brain stops function for the simple things. I can process a crime scene to a T, but I can't remember not to tell people my secrets," she rambled. After taking a much needed breath, she groaned pleasantly. "Oh, that feels good. Don't stop.

"Mmm…" He continued to knead her shoulders and back.

_( Ring )_

He grunted and grabbed his phone off of the nightstand on his side of the bed. "Grissom." He attempted his best sleepy voice. He cradled the phone between his chin and shoulder while he continued to rub Sara's back.

"_Gil, it's Cath. Were you sleeping?"_

"It's always a possibility... I just got out of the shower and was settling in. What can I do for you?"

"_You're so much more pleasant than Sara when I wake her up."_

"That's good to know. I'll keep that in mind. So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this call?"

"_We've got a situation…"_ Catherine filled him in on the circumstances.

"Okay." He hesitated a second. "You said Sara's in a bad mood?"

_Catherine laughed into the phone. "Well, she's not raving to come into work."_

"Okay. I'll give her a call and pick her up on my way in. I'll get some coffee in her, and she'll be perky by the time we get to the lab."

_That brought another chuckle from Catherine. "This I gotta see."

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_

Grissom led Sara into the lab with an arm on the small of her back. She was furiously rubbing her face, trying to erase the sleep that was threatening to consume her. Yawns were keeping her from saying anything.

Sara slipped into the breakroom and slid into a chair. She slumped over the breakroom table, waiting on the rest of the crew to roll in. She rested her head in the crook of her elbow. Grissom walked in behind her. He poured the remaining coffee from the pot and took a sip as he sat down in the chair next to her.

"Looks like we've got a live one over here," Nick joked, pointing at Sara, who only grunted a response.

As each member walked in, they all walked over to the coffee pot expectantly. It was their afternoon ritual after having been working for hours on end. Each person groaned as they realized it was empty.

"Ah, man, who drank the last of the coffee?" Warrick asked, looking pointedly at Grissom.

At that comment, Sara raised her head for the first time. Grissom was just pulling the cup away from his lips. "If that's the last of the coffee, it's mine," she grumbled, grabbing it out of his hand.

She took a long sip from the cup. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Grissom peering at her. Sara turned her head faintly to look at him. She threw on the most angelic expression she could muster and offered, "Okay. Don't act like I just stole your microscope. I'll share it with you."

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To Be Continued... 


	2. Pins And Needles

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

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**A/N – **I'm not exactly sure what's up with the removal of spaces and random small words. I use Word, and I proofread everything about 10 times before I ever upload it. I'll take a few minutes and fix the errors at some point in the near future. My apologies.

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Pins and Needles

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"Damn it, Grissom. Stop!" Sara shrieked, "That hurts."

"Stop fidgeting. You're only making it worse." His voice was calm, but there was an intensity behind it that caused Sara to wonder if he was doing this on purpose.

"Ouch!" Sara tried to pull out of his grasp, but his hand was tightly clenching her left shoulder, holding her firmly in place in front of him.

"Sara, hold still. This will all be over soon if you'll just..."

"You could be a little gentler. You're nicer to a corpse at a crime scene."

"That's because corpses aren't writhing around, screaming at me, and being difficult in general." Grissom lowered his voice and whispered in her ear, "And, if you're not quiet, people are going to hear you and come in here to see what's going on."

Sara knew he was right, but she could not let the issue drop. "Couldn't we have gotten this over with in the SUV?"

Grissom had not one second to reply. Almost as if they had been called into the room, the rest of the graveyard crew walked into the locker room. Each jaw dropped and eyes widened within nanoseconds of walking into the room, seeing their supervisor holding their coworker. They bumped into each other as the shock stopped each of them dead in their tracks.

"This will make for interesting talk around the water cooler," Nick's southern drawl mocked them as he took in the sight.

On the bench sat Grissom behind an almost-naked Sara. She had a towel draped over her chest and her arms folded in an extremely defiant manner, clasping the towel almost as if her life depended on it. Pants pulled down to her knees and her underwear pulled slightly lower in the back.

The look on both of their faces was utter shock. Grissom's look turned slightly amused as Sara's turned into horrific embarrassment. She hung her head and moaned into the towel as she clutched the top part of it to her mouth.

"I can't believe this is happening," Sara gasped. The resignation in her voice was begging people to pity her.

"I told you to be quiet," Grissom tormented. He did not want to find enjoyment out of the situation or seeing Sara so embarrassed, but he had to admit that there was a slight amount of comedy in their predicament.

Greg was laughing so hard he could barely get words out. Through his stifled laughs, the team could make out enough words to understand his meaning. "Grissom... Sara... lucky... caught."

Utterly flustered at that, Grissom spun his head around to face them. "Contrary to what you may believe you all are seeing, there is a reasonable explanation for this," he said tightly, "I just haven't yet figured out how to explain it." He hoped his team would not feed the rumor mill with this little juicy tidbit.

Catherine spoke up, "Well, one of you better start talking before we all draw on the conclusion that is so apparent." Amusement was clearly dripping from her voice.

Sara was almost unable to speak through her humiliation, "Just tell them what happened."

"You said you didn't want anyone to know," Grissom continued to tease her, even in spite of the situation.

"It's a little too late for that now," was Sara's tiny reply, her head still hung in shame.

"Okay. It started simply enough when we arrived at the 419. As Sara was hunkered over the body, I _apparently_ walked up on her while she was deep in thought and scared her. She fell backwards into a small thicket of bushes. When she stood up, most of the bush came with her. Consequently, I'm pulling the needles out of her back," Grissom explained.

Seeing the red marks on her back and the tweezers in Grissom's hand verified what he said, but the crew was intent on making them suffer a little longer. They all exchanged looks of extreme amusement.

Catherine reached into the kit by her side and pulled out a Polaroid camera. She knew she was gong to take some heat over it, but she snapped the picture anyway. This gathered claps and cheers from the 3 other CSIs watching, and a groan from Sara.

"Catherine, if that picture ever sees the light of day..." Grissom did not even bother to finish the threat. "Everyone out. I believe you've seen enough for one day."

Sara waited a few minutes until she was sure the room was empty of intruders. "God, Gris, I'm mortified." Never had she felt so vulnerable in all of her time working at the lab.

Grissom leaned forward and took her into a small hug while he gave her a gentle kiss on her shoulder blade. He breathed into her ear, "I'll try to make it up to you later."

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In the break room three hours later, Sara was reading a forensic journal when Warrick entered. He remained quiet, yet Sara knew what he was thinking. He made no eye contact as he walked over and pretended to be interested in the coffee pot.

"Say it. I know you're dying to," Sara sighed, dropping the magazine down on the table.

Warrick looked stunned for a moment. The mock innocence was immediately replaced with one of amusement as Sara glared at him. He spoke back, "Whatever you do in your free time is fine by me. I just wouldn't do it in the locker room."

"But it wasn't—" Sara defended, flustered, "There wasn't..."

"Calm down, girl. I was just kidding," Warrick said with a smirk, "You have to admit it was rather funny."

"Meh. I'm going to go find some work to do." She pursed her lips into a fine line.

Sara walked over to Trace where Greg was waiting on some results while Hodges was out. Seeing the look on his face almost made Sara turn and walk away. Instead, Greg stopped her with a very unexpected remark – a work related comment.

"We got the DNA back on the perp from yesterday's rape case. I'll show it to you as soon as Hodges gets back and gives me the results from the vic's clothing."

Sara was relieved at the comment, but said nothing. It seemed that Greg had really matured since going out into the field. Maturity in Greg was short-lived. He leaned in closer and whispered, "So, let's say you really did have needles in your back..." He paused for a dramatic effect and raised his eyebrows before continuing, "How did you get into the bushes to start with? _Really_?"

"How did that become your business? _Really_?" Sara retorted before walking away.

Shaking her head, Sara walked over into Ballistics. She ran into Nick while he was walking out. Sara shot him a look that would boil water.

He raised his arms in surrender. "I didn't say anything." The grin on his face gave away his thoughts, no matter what he told her.

"Keep it that way. I've heard quiet enough already," Sara responded dryly.

"Well, I do have one thing to say. This might be Vegas, baby, but that don't mean that things that happen in the locker room are taboo," he snickered as he left.

Sara spun on her heels and walked down the opposite way in the hallway. All she wanted was to hide. There was one place left she could find sanctuary. She made her way around the halls and towards Grissom's office. Catherine was alone in there dropping a file on Grissom's desk as Sara walked through the doorway.

"Gris, can we—" Sara shook her head. "God, I can't get away from you people, can I?"

Catherine grinned. "Hey, no keeping secrets from us." She patted Sara on the shoulder as she passed.

Sara dropped into one of the chairs in front of the desk and muttered under her breath, "That's precisely what I'm afraid of..."

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To Be Continued... 


	3. Mind Meld

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

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**A/N - **Sorry about the delay. I've been trying to upload this for a almost a week, but kept getting errors. I should have another one pretty soon.

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Mind Meld

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The nightshift team was gathered in the layout room piecing together a case that was a walking media frenzy. The press had little sympathy for anything that would gather them ratings. This case being a senator's daughter left hanged in a hotel room alongside two hookers was just what the press wanted – not what the CSIs needed.

Sara walked up to the door and stood there for a second. Grissom was eying four plastic bags on the table in front of him. He only had to look up at her, and she reached for them.

"I'm on it. Taking the carpet swatches to trace to see what matches," she replied with complete professionalism as she turned from the room and headed down the hall.

Grissom gave her a half smirk and picked up the photo evidence. Before he knew it, Sara was back staring over his shoulder. He was flipping through the pictures and pausing long enough to make sure Sara got a good look as well.

Everyone had been so absorbed in their thoughts and piecing together evidence that no one said anything. There were murmurs and groans, but no words in the room.

Finally, Grissom broke the silence. He was speaking aloud, but it was directed more as a general observation and not to any one individual. "There's something off... It's–"

"Staged." Sara finished Grissom's thought.

"Exactly," he replied, pursing his lips in deliberation.

The other CSIs looked up to see what they were talking about. For the first time in hours, at least someone was making some progress. Sara laid the pictures out on the table and pointed to each of the nooses around the victims' necks.

"Look at the way they're hanging. The marks on their necks don't match up with the rope that they were found hanging by."

"So it was staged. So what? That doesn't get us any closer to a killer," Nick said, frustrated.

Grissom raised an eyebrow and cocked his head slightly, "Why, Nicky, you're missing the point. Knowing this was staged gets us closer to the motive."

Sara interjected, "Which gets us closer to the killer." The smile on her face was a killer in itself. She was overly pleased with the amount of progress they had made in those last few minutes.

The other CSIs were confused. They looked back and forth between Grissom and Sara trying to read the expressions on their faces. The staging of this scene only made it more complex, not complete.

Warrick glanced up from the papers he was reading. "How does this staging lead us to a killer? The hanging of them only means that someone tried to cover up their strangulation."

Greg added, "Yeah, just because someone hung them up to dry doesn't lead us anywhere."

Grissom sighed. He looked at each member of the crew. "The killer is sending us a message. Don't you see it?"

That last question only brought quizzical looks, raised eyebrows, and scrunched up faces from the crowd. Each of them shaking their heads, Sara studied them closely.

"Look at the positions of the bodies. The senator's daughter is in the middle with a hooker on each side. What does that resemble to you?" Sara pointed to the pictures again for emphasis.

The four other CSIs looked over the pictures intently for a moment. Catherine opened her mouth at a slight realization. "The Crucifixion?"

Sara looked decidedly pleased as her eyes got bigger. "Except being hanged by ropes rather than nailed to wood."

Grissom's face held a boyish grin like he had found an extra toy under the Christmas tree. "Yes!" He was getting more excited, even if Sara really was the only one that understood what was truly happening.

"Still not seeing motive. And, certainly not seeing a killer" Nick shook his head.

"No killer, yet, Nick. But, we've got a place to start looking," Grissom replied.

Warrick leaned back in his chair. As he tapped a pencil on the table, he ventured, "Nick has a point. We've got a pair of aces in a poker hand, and you're telling us to split and we'll hit 21."

Greg squinted. "Damn, 'Rick, speak English."

Catherine stared across the room blankly. "He's saying that we're not seeing the same thing as Sara and Grissom. And, that they're getting a conclusion based off of something they see rather than what we're seeing."

"Ah," Greg gasped, "So, we should be looking at the evidence from another angle because the game we're seeing isn't the one we're playing at all. So, when we see it in the right light, we'll get the answer we need?"

Ignoring Greg, Sara frowned in the slightest of measures, tilted her head, and sighed. "Warrick, what activities, clubs, or causes was the vic involved in?" she asked.

He grabbed a folder off of the table and opened it. Skimming the contents he looked up to see expectant faces from Grissom and Sara, while the other three still looked just as confused. Warrick finally saw what they were looking at.

"She was extremely active in the church. She was raising money for a lot of charitable organizations ran out of that church... This girl was up to her neck in good deeds."

Grissom finally looked pleased that someone else had caught on to what was happening. "And, where was the last place she was reported being seen alive that night?"

"Notes say that she was working late at the church going over the books and tallying the money for a shelter she was starting to get prostitutes off the street."

Sara put her hands on the table and glared at them. "And, where would you go after you were done getting a deposit ready?"

Catherine, Greg, Nick, and Warrick all spoke together. "The bank..."

"My guess is that she found something she wasn't supposed to," Sara speculated. "I think someone knew she was looking at the books. The killer surmised what she had found or would find. He followed her out of the church and killed her. Then, he posed her body along with the hookers."

Grissom maintained, "While the prostitutes threw us off in the beginning, I believe it was only part of the reason behind the staging. He made her a martyr for her cause."

"Why hanging?" Nick asked while Sara and Grissom were swinging themselves out of their chairs and heading for the door.

Sara laughed. "Nailing them to the walls in a hotel room is a lot harder to do. Think of the noise factor alone." She turned to Grissom and added, "I'm calling the church. Going to find out what bank she was using for the charities," Sara said with emphasized happiness.

"Good. I'll call Brass and tell him to be on standby to grab the warrant for surveillance footage and financial records once we have confirmation and meet us there," Grissom said as he grabbed her arm and lead her from the room. Together, they scampered off down the hall, both talking on their cell phones.

Grissom and Sara always had their own way of interpreting what the other one had said without the other ever having said a word. It was always one of those little constants in life that you could count on. Just as sure as people die, Grissom and Sara could read each other's minds.

"They scare me," Greg said with a little tremor in his voice.

Catherine just shook her head. "They're back," she stated matter-of-factly. The rest of the team looked at her and nodded their heads in acknowledgement.

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To Be Continued... 


	4. Helping Hand

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

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Helping Hand

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Sara pulled on her latex gloves, staring at the goop in front of her. She never liked Jell-O, and ballistics gel was just as disgusting. However, Sara was willing to overlook the jiggly, squishy, slimy nature of it because it served a purpose, and most importantly, she was not going to eat it. 

Curling her lip slightly, she ripped open packets, dumped them into the large cylinder, and then poured water in on top. Grabbing a large stirring stick, Sara began swirling the mixture together.

While she was staring into the mixture, her hair fell around her face. Sara threw her head back and shook it to get the hair behind her shoulders again. The effort was in vain as she dipped her head back forward again, and the hair fell even more came cascading around her face again.

Using her elbow, Sara struggled to push it back. Grissom stood in the doorway watching her with interest. He smirked as she cursed under her breath when some of the gel sloshed up on her gloves and into her hair.

She looked up hearing a stifled giggle. "Are you laughing at me?" she asked, her displeasure evident in her voice.

His smirk grew wider. "No. I would never do such a thing." His voice most certainly betrayed the statement.

"I hate this crap. Why is it again I have to mix it up?" Sara threw him a mock-glare over the top of the cylinder.

"Someone has to," he replied casually, leaning his body comfortably against the doorframe. Grissom was enjoying her suffering, even if it would cost him later.

"And, by someone, that means anyone but you." Her accusation was pointed and well-founded, but Grissom found it amusing.

"You were late for assignments. I have to appear fair," he explained half-heartedly. He'd already explained that to her when she was picking up the gel packets from storage.

"Appearing fair and being fair need to become one in the same. It wasn't my fault I was late. You should be stirring this. In fact..." Sara pointed the stick at him for emphasis. "You should be the one cleaning the storage room, too." Putting the stick back into the mixture, Sara began mumbling under her breath, "Get my briefcase out of my car, Sara. I'm going to be late for assignments... No, Grissom, I need a cup of coffee... Come on, Sara, it's your fault I forgot it... Damn, men, can't do anything themselves. Useless."

"Stop grumbling," he taunted, pointing at the mixture.

"None of this is my fault, and I'm not exactly Betty Crocker," she groaned.

"Even Betty Crocker's magic wasn't created in a day."

"I think you're confused. Mixing your metaphors?" She teased him in spite of how disturbed she was at her situation.

Grissom raised an eyebrow. "Possibly. Does it amuse you?"

"Almost as much as it probably amuses you to watch me stir this." Her hair fell again. "Damn it." Hearing Grissom snicker again, Sara scowled at him. "You could at least be more supportive than to laugh at me."

"Would you like a hand?" he asked sarcastically.

"I would love it," she sighed.

Grissom gave a half-hearted golf clap. At the irritated look on Sara's face, Grissom winked and walked into the room. "How can I help you?"

"Mix this up?" she asked mockingly, contemplating just how much trouble she would get herself in if she dumped the mixture over his head.

"Out of the question, Ms. Sidle. Try again."

After no response, Grissom stood beside her quietly watching. She continued stirring as if he was not even in the room. Grissom reached over and brushed her hair out of her face and tucked it behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin a little longer than necessary.

"Looked like you could use a little help with that," he said with a little shrug of his shoulders.

"If you want to be useful, you could get the band out of my pocket and pull my hair back," Sara offered.

"Are you flirting with me?"

"I was merely offering you the chance to redeem yourself from your shameless laughing at my predicament... The rest, well, we'll have to work out later. I'm thinking you're going to be writing up my reports for the next week."

Grissom actually looked stunned at that. "Sara, there's no way I'm going to do that."

"It's only fitting. You hate paperwork, and I hate ballistics gel. You punished me for something that wasn't my fault. I took the punishment because... well, I felt obligated due to our situation... appearances and all. No one has to know you're writing my reports, and we're even." Sara made her attempt at keeping her gaze neutral, staring at the mixture in front of her.

"I was thinking we could keep work out of this," he whispered.

"I'm thinking you can start with getting my hair out of my face, and I'll consider my payment for this and the storage room punishment."

Grissom slipped behind her, far closer than he needed to be for being in the lab. Sara drew in a deep breath, feeling his body lightly brushing hers. When Grissom placed his hands on her hips, Sara shut her eyes and wished they were anywhere but the lab.

"Which pocket is it in?" he whispered in her ear.

"You're torturing me," Sara said as she straightened herself and opened her eyes. Her intent was to start stirring the mixture again. If he wanted to play this game, she decided it was her turn. "I've only got four pockets. Pick one and go from there. It could be fun."

"This isn't about fun. This is purely a professional courtesy," Grissom said in a mock serious voice.

Grissom slid his hands around to her rear pockets as he glanced out in the hallway watching for any onlookers. Sara giggled when his hands deliberately delayed on her back pockets. Every so slowly, Grissom slid his hands around her hips to her front pockets.

"You're getting warmer," Sara purred as Grissom slid each hand into a pocket.

He pulled out an elastic band from her front right pocket and held it up like a trophy. "Eureka."

Very slowly, Grissom ran his hands through her hair, pulling it back to put into the band. All the while, he was enjoying the smell of her shampoo. After pulling her hair up into a pony tail, he stood for a few moments and admired her neck with the eye of a vulcher picking out his next prey.

"Can you help me pour this, or are you going to stand back there and admire the view all day?" Sara said, grinning, as she tipped her head to glance at him out of the corner of her eye.

Standing in DNA, Warrick rubbed his eyes. Somehow, he picked his jaw up off of the floor, still not believing he had witnessed two people, who were known to barely share a word with each other, touching and interacting as if it was second nature.

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To Be Continued... 


	5. Favors

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

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**A/N - **Thank you, Reviewers! You're the best! I love you guys. I hope to keep you entertained and live up to the wonderful things you keep saying.

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Favors

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"Gil," Catherine called out, following Grissom down the hall.

He stopped briefly in the hallway. Glancing up from a folder in his hand, he replied, "Yes, Catherine. Make it fast. Doc Robbins is keeping a body on ice for me."

"Hey, Gris," Sara called, walking towards him from the other end of the hall.

He turned to face Sara with a small smile on his face. "Glad you're here. I was just on my way to find you. The body is on a slab waiting on us."

"Good. I've got the results back on the blue powder we got off her leg..." Sara was talking as she started to lead Grissom away.

"Hey!" Catherine called out to them, "Wait a minute. I was here first."

Sara turned around with a raised eyebrow. "Oops."

"Sorry, Catherine. What is it I can do for you?" Grissom turned around, apologetic.

"You're off tomorrow night. I need to ask you to do me a very large favor."

"I believe that would depend on what it is you're asking." Grissom fingered the folder in his hands impatiently. He could immediately sense that whatever Catherine had to say was not going to bode well for him.

Sara feigned disinterest in what they were talking about. She looked out through the lab, turning her body slightly away from the conversation. It was a moment in time Sara was torn between wanting to see the conversation unfold and wishing she had arrived just five minutes later to find Grissom.

"I've got a friend coming into town, and... well, she wants to go out tomorrow night."

"And, this affects me how?" Grissom's face remained stoic even though scenarios of what she was asking were running through his head.

"I've got a date already, and I can't cancel it again. I've already had to cancel with him twice because of work. I just can't do it again." Not one to be known to beg, but Catherine was bordering on it.

"Oh, no, Catherine." The expression could almost pass for stunned, but there was a mixture of embarrassment thrown in there as well. "No."

"C'mon, Gil," she pleaded, "It's not like I'm asking for you to give up your bug collection. I'm just merely asking you to entertain her at dinner."

"Catherine, I've..." Grissom willed himself not to look at Sara.

"I know, I know. You're not good at this stuff. You just have to put on a suit and tie, meet us for dinner, and not talk about bugs or bodies." Seeing the apprehension on his face, she added, "I'll even pay for your meal."

"You're not... _fixing_... me up with someone. Look, I've got plans tomorrow. I'm certainly not going on a _date_."

"What are your plans, Gil? Sit at home reading a journal, watching the History or Discovery Channel, pinning another bug on the wall?" She frowned. "Don't make me plead with you. I'll owe you one."

Sara worked so hard at maintaining a straight face. She thought she was going to tear up from holding her laughter. Listening Grissom try to wiggle out of this situation was hilarious, even if it could potentially complicate their date plans for the evening. It was their first night off together in over two weeks.

Finally, Catherine looked at Sara. "Hey, you're off tomorrow, too, aren't you? You can bring your boyfriend."

Sara's head flew back around to the offending conversation. She fashioned a look on her face that could not appear more horrified. "I don't have a—what makes you think I've got a boyfriend?" she squeaked.

"For Pete's sake, everyone knows," she sighed, "You've actually been nice to work with."

It was at that point Grissom had to keep his lips from forming a smirk. He did steal a small sideways glance at Sara to see the pained look on her face. He mused himself with the idea that at least people had not suspected they were together, yet.

"I'm not exactly ready to bring my _boyfriend_ into my work world. I don't think he's ready to meet the people I work with," Sara explained, searching her mind for any excuse to get out of this sticky situation.

"This will ease your new beau into your work life. It's just me and Gil. He'll love us. I'm not taking no for an answer. I'll give you the details at the end of the shift. I've got to head out to my scene. Thanks." Catherine flashed the largest crocodile smile she could find and began to walk away. She called out over her shoulder, "I owe you both."

Together, they muttered, "You have no idea." Then, they started walking to the morgue.

Alone in the hall, Grissom glanced at Sara. "Well, that was uncomfortable. I'm going on a date tomorrow." He lightly chuckled.

"Your girlfriend might not be completely comfortable with that." Sara frowned ever so slightly.

"As long as you don't report back to her when I misbehave myself, I'll be fine," he joked.

"You better have behaved yourself anyway." Sara poked him in his side. "Oh, my God!" she groaned.

"What?"

Sara started laughing. "I have to find a boyfriend... How am I going to do that?"

Grissom quietly joined in her laughter. "This could indeed become interesting."

* * *

"You do look stunning," Grissom breathed into her ear, sliding his hands down her sides.

"You better stop that," Sara pleaded lightly as Grissom was pulling the flimsy material of her dress up slightly higher on her hips.

Grissom smoothed the material down but kept his hold on her waist. "When will your date be here?"

"I can't believe we're joking about this," Sara choked out.

Grissom started nuzzling her neck making Sara squirm to finish putting on her earrings. "Where did you find this guy? Should I be worried about the speed at which you can get a date?"

Sara heaved a small chuckle. "I should hold this over your head."

Grissom grabbed her sides below her ribs and pressed his fingers enough to make her cringe. Sara relented as she steeled her body, "Okay. Okay! He's works at my dry cleaner's."

"That's supposed to make me feel better?" Grissom released her sides and started kissing her shoulder.

She turned around and kissed him tenderly. As they started getting more passionate, the doorbell rang. Sara wiggled and eyebrow and winked. "That would be my date. Would you like to meet him or be pleasantly surprised?"

"What I'd prefer to do this evening isn't on the immediate agenda. I'm glad Catherine has to work tonight. It means we won't be out too late entertaining her."

"This can only help us. Apparently people are in the dark about us, and this will keep it that way. Let's just go have fun. You can meet him there. I'll finish preparing him on the way."

They kissed again and reluctantly pulled away as another knock came at the door.

"See you soon," Grissom called out as Sara walked to the door of her apartment.

"Mm-hmm," Sara cooed.

* * *

Catherine, her date, and her friend sat at a table as Grissom approached them. His investigator eyes skimmed the blond woman sitting there. She was approximately Catherine's age and quite eye-catching in her own right, but Grissom was still annoyed at being there. The trio stood as he reached the table.

"Gil, glad you're here," Catherine greeted him. "Candice, Gil." She waggled her hand between them. "Gil, Candice." Promptly, she turned back to her date.

Grissom and Candice exchanged a handshake and pleasantries. Sitting in their seats, they made small talk until they were drawn to Sara and her date appearing at the table. As hard as he tried, Grissom could not keep his eyes from roaming her body.

Sara's dress was driving him crazy. It was short, very short. As well as being short, it was tight, black, strappy, and showing a lot of cleavage. It pained him to be forced to ignore her and remain professional through the evening. He gave her a curt nod as greeting, hoping that his staring went unnoticed.

Sara smiled. "Hi, everyone. This is James." She held onto his arm almost as if she was drowning, determinately trying to keep her eyes off of Grissom. "James, this is Gil Grissom, my boss, and Catherine, my coworker." They exchanged handshakes all around as the rest of the introductions were gotten out of the way.

It was a very awkward night, each and every one of them had to admit. No one complained or had a bad time, but it was painfully obvious that they were keeping up appearances. James had been prepared with the necessities of what to say and what not to say, but a few times Sara was compelled to steer the conversation another direction.

"Well, I'm heading home and then to work," Catherine stated, getting from her seat.

They all parted that night, shaking hands and exchanging pleasantries again. Splitting into two groups of three, they exited the restaurant and walked to their cars. Grissom walked Sara to his car and offered his hand to James.

"Thank you, James. I want to tell you how much I appreciate what you did this evening. I know it must seem strange," Grissom said as he shook the man's hand warmly.

"It was a pleasure. I actually liked getting out of the house for a change. My wife is a nag. She won't ever go out anymore." James lightly chuckled. "Married five years, and the woman won't leave the house. Probably not even if it's on fire."

Grissom grinned at the man as a small wave of relief washed over him. The idea that James was married had never crossed his mind. "If there's anything we can do for you, just let us know. We owe you."

"Oh, you don't need to worry about it. Sara's already taking care of it. Let me know if you need to do this again. I would be more than happy." James walked away.

"Thanks, James," Sara called out as she saw him disappear into the darkness.

In the car, Grissom glanced at Sara with a squint in his eyes. "What are you taking care of?"

"Just gotta make a speeding ticket disappear." She paused for a second in thought. "I'll talk to Brass about it tomorrow at work."

"Another favor we'll owe someone."

"Oh, the things we do for love." Sara reached over and grabbed Grissom's hand after he put the car in drive.

Catherine glanced out her window as they drove past. Though it was incredibly dark, it was not hard to distinguish Grissom's car. What was hard to discern in the darkness was why it looked like there was another person in the car with him.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	6. Uninvited Guest

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N - **Again, thank you, reviewers. You guys are wonderful. You have no idea how much it brightens my day to know that you find these things entertaining.

* * *

Uninvited Guest

* * *

Grissom rolled over in bed. Something had startled him awake, but whatever it had been was not making itself known again. Sara had not roused from her slumber. So, Grissom decided it must have been a dream. He snuggled closer to Sara, attempting to go back to sleep. 

After another hour of sleep, Sara woke. She struggled with the light, adjusting to it, trying to discern what numbers were on the clock. She sighed, seeing it was only two in the afternoon. Suddenly, she wondered what had pulled her from sleep. Try as she might, Sara could not go back to sleep. She got out of bed and padded to the kitchen.

Sara started a pot of coffee. She longed on the couch, reading the newspaper, and waiting patiently for the coffee to brew. She processed the crime scene over in her head and reviewed her bills in her mind. There was no reason she should not be sleeping right at that moment.

Resigning herself to just falling prey to her insomnia again, she started picking up the living room of her apartment. Cleaning up included pushing Grissom's shoes out of the middle of the floor, hanging his jacket on the hook by the door, and straightening his crossword puzzle books on the coffee table.

Grissom was proving to be the most unorganized organized man Sara had ever met. There was a method to the madness, she was sure, but figuring that out had eluded her. Where he had order in his life, he had no order in his property. It was one of the most endearing things about the man.

She smiled for a moment, filling her coffee cup. Sara sipped the hot liquid letting it wake her fully to the day ahead of her. Thoughts of Grissom sleeping in her bed scattered themselves through her mind until Sara found herself watching him sleep from the doorway of the bedroom.

There was a strange and low knock at the door. Sara pulled herself away from the doorway and placed her coffee mug hesitantly on the bar. She peeked through the spy hole on the door, but there was no one around. Quite possibly since it was so low, there was a chance it had not come from her door, but Sara felt compelled to open it to check.

At first, there seemed to be nothing amiss. Slowly, Sara's gaze was drawn down to her feet where there was an arm outstretched, lying on the floor. She followed the arm its length and found herself looking Greg directly in the eye.

"Greggo? What in the world are you doing sitting outside my apartment door?" Sara asked hesitantly, absolutely fearing the answer.

"Oh, thank God. Finally. I've been sitting out here for almost two hours," Greg mumbled.

"Again, Greg... What are you doing here?" Sara frowned down at the dejected man.

Greg jumped up to his feet with a sudden sense of jubilation. "My apartment manager left a note on my door that the place was being fumigated. So, I don't have anywhere to stay for the next three days."

Sara's eyebrows shot up. "And...?"

"Well... Ya, know... Since we're such good friends and all, I thought I'd crash here," he gushed while waggling his eyebrows and flashing a toothy grin.

Momentarily, Sara was caught up in Greg's childish mannerisms and completely forgot that Grissom was sleeping in the other room. She ushered him into the apartment with the wave of her arm.

As if stuck by some blinding force, Sara stopped dead cold beside her sofa. Greg bounded by her and dropped his bag beside the coffee table with a thud. He flopped himself on the couch and settled in quickly.

"I've... uh... I'll get you a blanket." Sara stammered, realizing she needed to shut her bedroom door before his presence was made known. She kicked Grissom's shoes under the edge of the couch.

Greg looked around the room, surveying everything. He was not the most astute investigator, yet, but Sara could see him taking in all of the little un-Sara-like things in the room. He fingered the case file under the crossword puzzles.

"I'm going to use the bathroom real fast. One too many cups of coffee before I staged a sit-in outside your door."

As soon as the bathroom door was shut, Sara started grabbing everything she could find that belonged to Grissom – his jacket by the door, shoes under the couch, glasses on the desk, keys on the bar, briefcase on the floor on the other end of the couch. Hurriedly, Sara tossed them on the bed, waking Grissom.

"Honey, what are you doing?" he asked, his voice laden with sleep. Barely opening his eyes, he looked at Sara quizzically.

She whispered, "Greg's in the bathroom." Next, she began rummaging through her closet looking for a blanket.

"What's he doing here? And, what are you doing?" Slightly bemused, Grissom flipped over on his back to eye her movements more purposefully.

"Shhh... For God's sake, Gil, he's going to hear you," Sara continued to whisper, "His apartment is being fumigated. He needs a place to stay. He's been outside the door for a couple of hours."

"He can't stay here," Grissom replied flatly.

After finding a blanket and pulling it from the shelf, Sara spun around to glare at him. "I know the timing is lousy, but I can't kick him out. So... be quiet, and I'll... I'll figure something out and be back as soon as I can."

Before leaving, she placed a gentle kiss on Grissom's lips and smiled. Careful to not open the door too far, Sara slipped out and tossed the blanket at Greg's head. She flashed him a smile, catching him off-guard, attempting to put him at ease.

"So... why me?" she asked, falling onto the couch beside him.

"You were the first one I thought of actually." He looked rather embarrassed for a moment. "Warrick's married, Nick's out of town for a couple of days, Catherine's got Lindsey, and... Grissom's just... Grissom."

Sara fought the chuckle threatening her. "Thanks. I think."

They talked for a little while until Sara felt guilty about leaving Grissom alone in the bedroom. Sleeping or not, it just felt wrong to strand him in there while she was talking to Greg. After seeing him yawn, Sara feigned being sleepy as well and bid a good night to her newest roommate.

* * *

Her phone vibrating by her head woke Sara with a start. The alarm had been set to get Grissom out before Greg would get up for them all to head in to work. It was insane for her to sleep so long and not something she had done in ages. Sara was effectively hiding in her bedroom. 

"I'll make sure he's still sleeping, and it'll give you time to slip out." Sara snuggled up against him.

"Remind me why I can't just walk out there again," he yawned.

"Because you like working with me."

"Ah, yes. That's it." He leaned over and began kissing Sara before she could retreat to checking on Greg.

"Hon," Sara whispered breathlessly, "I hate to stop this, but—" Grissom silenced her with his lips again. After a few moments, Sara struggled away. "Gris, get dressed. I'll let you know when it's safe to come out," she murmured, clinging desperately to her resolve to make it through the situation.

Sara walked out of her bedroom to find Greg watching TV. His gaze skimmed her briefly before returning to the program. She sat down tentatively running her options over in her head before speaking.

Greg beat her to the punch. "It's 'bout time you got up. I'm dying out here with your sparse channel selection."

"Since you've made yourself comfortable in my apartment and already have a shower, I'm going to take one. Then, you're taking me out to get some food before we head to the lab."

After retreating to her bedroom for clothes and filling Grissom in on the latest development, Sara made another pot of coffee and left it on for Grissom. She showered, dressed, and ushered Greg out as quickly as possible, leaving Grissom enough time and space to get himself ready for work without having to go home.

Sitting at the diner, Sara's phone rang. She answered it hastily, hushing her voice. "Sidle. ... What? ... I, uh, threw them on the bed. ... I swear they're there. ... Sorry. I wasn't thinking clearly at the time. ... Okay. See you then."

"Something wrong, Sara?" Greg asked between mouthfuls.

"Uh... no. It's just, uh... Are you ready to go to work, yet? I need to finish up a report before shift starts." She averted her eyes from Greg's scrutinizing gaze.

* * *

"Sara, Greg, decomp in a basement." Grissom scowled at the pair, but smiled inwardly, happy about the perfect timing of the newest case. 

Sara frowned directly back at him. "How many times do I have to apologize for breaking your glasses?"

"Greg needs to experience a few more decomps, and you're here to teach him." He smiled sickeningly sweet. "I'll pick up some lemons for you two."

"Don't stress yourself. It's not like I've got anything to go home to," Sara replied bitterly, getting up from her seat.

Greg piped up. "Smelling like death cuts down your chances. I've got a date today. I'm not turning down a lemon delivery." He bounded from the room, kit in hand, heading for the Tahoe.

"Okay. Lemons. I am sorry about your glasses. I never thought about them getting caught in the sheets." Sara pursed her lips, embarrassed.

"I'll put the lemons in your locker. I'm not really upset about the glasses. Greg's visit was a surprise. Speaking of which..." Grissom opened the folder in his hands, perusing the contents as if it interested him.

"If I'm not babysitting him, I'll be over. We'll see." Sara turned her eyes to him, drinking in his features.

"Sara!" Greg shouted from the other end of the hallway, "Death awaits. Stop groveling, and let's go."

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	7. Switched

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N – **Reviewers, you rock! It makes my day to see another notice come in with your words of encouragement. You guys make me want to keep churning these out (Not that I'm considering stopping, but... it makes me want to write faster.).

* * *

Switched

* * *

Sara stretched out her long arms as Nick slipped into the booth beside her. His typical grin greeted her when he slid a little too close. Greg plopped into the booth beside Catherine, who was sitting beside Grissom. Warrick finished filling the six-person booth sliding in beside Nick. Brass pulled up a chair, seating himself in the aisle at the end of the table.

"It's good to go out to breakfast with the family," Catherine stated whimsically.

"I'm just here collecting my free food," Nick joked, looking pointedly at Greg.

"It's not over, yet." Greg shook his head for added emphasis. "I don't owe you breakfast."

"You're still buying, little man. Even without the bet, I'm still sure you owe me for something." Nick laughed, perusing the menu.

Sara's cell phone rang, hushing the breakfast conversation. She wiggled in the tight confines of the booth before finally pulling the phone out and offering a clipped response to the call. "Sidle. ... Great. You made fast work of that. Can you put the report on Grissom's desk? ... Yeah, I'll get it as soon as I get back to the lab tomorrow night. ... Thanks. You did great."

Sara severed the connection quickly, with the flash of a smile. Briefly considering attempting to clip the phone back on her belt, Sara shifted in the booth. She gave up as the waitress came up to take their orders, placing the phone down on the table.

After the food arrived, Grissom's phone rang. He wrestled with his jacket pocket to retrieve the ringing device. Elbowing Catherine and receiving a death glare for it, Grissom slowed his movements but continued to fight for the phone. As it stopped ringing, he finally was able to pull it out. Frowning, he threw it on the table beside Sara's.

* * *

Instinctively, Sara rolled over in bed. Even in her sleep-fogged mind, she sensed something was amiss in the apartment. She stretched her arm across the bed, only to feel the cold sheets under her fingertips. Eyes still shut to the world, Sara sighed deeply and pulled the blanket over her head.

Eventually, Sara rolled to the edge of the bed and threw her legs off. She rubbed her eyes, standing from the bed. Grissom had to be in the living room, so Sara padded out of the bedroom yawning again. Seeing the room empty, she frowned. Alone in Grissom's townhouse was not the way she wanted to wake up.

Her cell phone ringing on the coffee table snapped Sara out of her thoughts. She snatched it up and answered snippily, never looking at the Caller ID, assuming it was Grissom. "You better have a good reason. It's the middle of the night."

No response. She tried again. "Um... hello?"

Still no response. Sara pulled the phone away from her ear and squinted at the Caller ID. She stared in disbelief for a moment. "Nick?" she asked hesitantly.

"_Y—Yeah. Am I... uh, interrupting anything?" Nick stammered._

"No. I was just expecting it to be someone else. What's up?"

"_We're swamped," Nick explained, "You're on call. Cath asked me to call you and Grissom in on the case I'm on."_

"Grissom? He's not on call," she argued, even though she had no reason.

"_There's bugs all over the body. She wanted to make sure a timeline got started." He hesitated a moment, choosing his next words. "So, uh, I'm going to call Grissom next. How soon can you get here?"_

"I'll be at the lab in thirty minutes." She hastily snapped her phone shut and stared at the darkness, still wondering where Grissom had wandered off to.

Ten minutes later, dressed and leaving the townhouse, Sara ran into Grissom getting out of his car. She locked the door behind her and walked straight up to him. His smile melted the icy stare she was fixing on him.

"Where have you been?" Sara asked, still feeling hurt at waking up alone.

"Couldn't sleep, and I didn't want to wake you. So, I went out for another crossword puzzle book to keep me busy." Wearing a sheepish smile, Grissom waved the book in front of her face.

Sara rolled her eyes. "I hate waking up without you."

Grissom reached over the two feet that separated them and grabbed her arm. Slowly, he pulled Sara towards him and into a hug. Sara ran her hands down his back enjoying the feel of his body before she had to feign her indifference at work.

"Nick call you?" Grissom asked, pecking a small kiss on her neck.

"Yeah... but, he seemed a little weird when he called."

* * *

They arrived at the lab in their separate cars five minutes apart. Sara was pouring coffee into two paper cups when Grissom walked into the breakroom. They greeted each other as if they had not just been together fifteen minutes prior.

Together, they drove out in the CSI Tahoe to the scene Nick was investigating. He watched them approach, scrutinizing their behavior. Nick filled them in on the basics of the case as Grissom began picking bugs off the body and Sara started scouring the scene itself for evidence.

"I've got what I need," Grissom stated, standing up from the body, "I'm going to take the Tahoe back to the lab and get started."

Sara ignored him purposefully looking the other way. Nick watched Grissom, jars full of bugs in his hands, stalk off to the SUV. It was almost amusing to see Grissom with his little pets, absorbed in his work, oblivious to everything around him.

Once Grissom had driven off, Nick sauntered over to Sara. "Hey, Sar, you had a date last night?"

"Uh..." Her eyebrows almost met as she scrunched up her face in confusion. "No. I didn't have a date." Feigning ignorance was easier when looking at the scene rather than looking into Nick's eyes, so she looked away.

"You just seemed... distracted when I called," Nick pressed, a smirk on his face.

"You woke me up," Sara answered cryptically, skimming her flashlight over the ground.

Nick chuckled but left her alone. He knew her about as well as she'd allow anyone to know her – in some ways, maybe more than she allowed him to know her. Over the time they had worked together in Las Vegas, Nick had watched Sara evolving from the person he met in September of 2000. He watched her try to hide her feelings many times, offering sarcasm or veiled lies to throw off suspicion.

Never had Sara outright lied, per se, but she had claimed to be fine when she really was struggling through portions of her life. Sara was a private person, and Nick assumed she always would be. He had lent her an ear when he felt she at least needed to know that someone would be there for her, even if she was hesitant to use it. And, Nick always viewed her as a sister in addition to the many had grown up with at home.

After David took the body away, Sara and Nick climbed into the Tahoe he had driven out to the scene and returned to the lab to examine the evidence they had collected. The drive had been silent, Sara trying to sleep and Nick trying to figure out a way to get Sara to talk. He was really curious about what she was hiding – she was evasive for a reason. It had to be the new guy in her life – she had been much happier as of that point... It all came back to the phone call earlier.

"Hey, Sara, you got a minute?" Greg bounced into the room.

"Uh..." She glanced at Nick, silently asking if it would be okay for her to step out. Nick nodded his head, and Sara stood from her chair. "Sure, Greg. What can I do for you?'

"I wanted to ask your opinion on something. I've been trying to reach you for the past hour, but you're not answering your phone." Greg frowned dramatically at her.

"Greg," Sara said, turning to look at Nick, "my phone hasn't rang... well, uh, since Nick called me to ask me to back him up." She looked back at Greg helplessly, pulling her phone off of her belt.

"Maybe it's off. Doesn't really matter now because I've found you. Come with me." He crooked a finger at Sara, leading her from the room.

Minutes later Sara came sighing back into the room. Nick looked up from the microscope eying her skeptically. "Ya'alright? You look a little peaked. What'd Greg do to you?"

"Greg was fine. He just wanted another perspective on a theory he was working. I'm... I'm just thinking about my phone..." Sara drifted off, looking over the folder in front of her.

"Sara?" Grissom asked from the doorway.

Her head snapped to attention. "First, Greg... Now, you... Don't tell me that you've been trying to call me for the past hour as well." She watched his face turn blank.

"Uh... actually... I did call, but..." His poker face revealed nothing, but Sara knew there was something more. "I think I took your phone... and you've got mine."

The jig was up, or so they thought. There was no reason to deny it at that point. Nick had been the one to call them, and it had been on the other one's phone. They handed each other their phones back, fingers grazing each other ever so slightly.

Nick looked up to see their exchange. He looked back and forth from one to the other as if he was watching a tennis match. The tension in the room could have been cut with a knife, and for a few brief moments, Nick wished he had been somewhere else.

Nick thought back through the day. "It must've happened at breakfast at the end of last shift when both of your phones were on the table," he stated, looking in the microscope. "Wondered how long it'd take you to figure it out... being such great investigators and all..."

Sara looked at him, startled. She looked back at Grissom. "Yeah, that must've been it," she mumbled, knowing very well that Grissom had taken the wrong phone with him when he left the townhouse at three in the morning.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	8. What's For Dinner?

_Disclaimer:_ Please refer to Chapter one. I'm just not creative enough to think of something new for each chapter...

* * *

**A/N - **I can't tell you enough how honored I am to have you all reviewing this story. Honestly, it's more than I ever dreamed, and I have each of you to thank for it. I can only hope that this will continue to live up to your wonderful reviews as the time passes. Enjoy.

* * *

What's For Dinner?

* * *

Seated at the table in the breakroom, Nick was reading a magazine while waiting on the microwave to finish his lunch. Lunch was relative to eating at four in the morning, but he was not about to complain about timing as long as he was eating.

Greg plopped down beside him at the table, looking over Nick's shoulder at the magazine in his hands. "So... wanna head out for something to eat?"

"Nah, but thanks, Greggo. I'm nuking something now," Nick replied, absently reading the main article in _ESPN: The Magazine_.

"I don't wanna go out by myself," Greg whined.

Warrick came walking in next, yawning and carrying a carry out box of food and a copy of _GQ_ to read on break. "This is the longest night we've had in a long time. Has anyone even got a speeding ticket in the last four hours?" He dropped his lanky frame into a chair on the opposite side of the table from Nick and Greg, his back to the doorway.

"Don't jinx it, 'Rick," Catherine reprimanded him from the doorway. "This could quite possibly be the first time in weeks I'll get to see my daughter before she leaves for school." She slumped into the chair alongside Warrick and pried open the box containing his lunch.

Grissom walked into the breakroom and straight over to the small under-the-counter refrigerator. He moved the items around in there until he saw what he was looking for. His fingers grabbed the brown bag and pulled it from the shelf. Sighing, he grabbed the diet soda beside it.

Just two days earlier Sara had criticized his eating habits. Grissom had complained about how tired he was feeling and made some mention about his cholesterol. To which Sara had replied that he needed to learn to eat better, and she was just the woman for the job.

Briefly, Grissom considered sitting down with Nick and Greg, but he feared them seeing what he was eating. Well, Grissom had to admit to himself that he was unaware of what exactly Sara had packed in the bag for his lunch. But, opening it in front of them could be worse than just eating it in the privacy of his office.

Sara looked inside the breakroom through the glass wall from across the hall. Grissom caught her eye and gave her a slight grimace, shaking the bag in his hand. Sara smiled at him, wondering just how he was going to pretend to eat what she had prepared and think of ways to smuggle some other food for himself into the lab.

"Gris, you gonna sit down and join us or stand there and try and absorb the food through osmosis?" Greg asked, glancing up at his supervisor.

Sara walked into the breakroom and walked over to the coffee pot. After pouring a cup, she placed herself down on the couch. "Grissom?" She eyed him questioningly. He was just standing there with a deer in the headlights look.

Grissom sat himself down in one of the chairs, purposefully trying not to look at Sara, even though he could feel her eyes on him. It was incredibly unnerving to have her watching him get out the lunch she had prepared, and everyone else was watching as well. He pulled the smaller baggy out of the brown paper sack.

"Sprouts?" Nick asked, grimacing at the sandwich on the table. Complimented by a tomato slice and a leave of romaine lettuce, the alfalfa sprouts were sticking out from all sides like a chia pet having a bad hair day.

Nick's question brought every other set of eyes toward him and then followed his line of sight to the sandwich in front of Grissom. Grissom stared in confusion at the breaded wonder on the table. He tilted his head in confusion, again reminding himself not to look at Sara. To Sara's credit, she was suppressing her smirk, watching some infomercial on TV, and paying no attention to any of them.

"Rabbit food, Gil?" Catherine joked, her eyebrows shooting up in a comical display.

"Gris, man, that looks too healthy to be good for you." Warrick laughed. He shook his head, smacking Catherine's hand away from his own boxed lunch.

Nick turned to look at Sara, who was paying no attention to any of them. "Looks like something the resident vegetarian would eat," he mentioned conversationally.

"Huh?" Sara turned around to look at the table, hearing the mention of her personal eating choices.

Grissom, raised eyebrow of question, turned to look at her. Sara looked blankly back at the group. Suddenly, she regretted making that lunch for Grissom. It had been for little more than shock value, but she had not planned on everyone else seeing what she he had to eat. The amusing part was that she had a real lunch set aside for him besides the fake one she had put in the breakroom refrigerator for him.

"This monstrosity in front of Grissom looks like something you'd eat." Catherine drew a finger out, poking it pointedly at the sandwich.

Sara stood and walked over to the table. "That does look amazingly like something I would be accused of eating... In fact, it looks like what I packed for my lunch today. Thought I'd try something new." She shrugged a shoulder carelessly.

"That looks disgusting," Greg commented.

Sara frowned at the youngest CSI. "It's not disgusting. It's healthy."

"Yeah. Whatever. Have you ever tried it?" Greg looked up at her with a wrinkled lip and a revolted stare.

"Not yet," Sara admitted. "I was planning on doing that in a few minutes..."

The microwave beeped, signaling the cooking – or heating, as the case may be – of Nick's lunch was completed. He jumped up and grabbed the microwave door, yanking it open to reveal a horrific smell that filled the small room.

"Oh! Damn, Nick. What is that?" Warrick screeched.

"Lunch, bro. What's it look like?" Nick asked, oblivious to all the appalled faces around him. After sitting back in his chair, he placed it in his mouth, taking a huge bite.

"And, all of you were criticizing my food choices." Sara said distastefully.

"I'd take that burrito over your gerbil food any day," Catherine mused.

"Coming from you, Catherine, that scares me. That thing..." Sara gestured towards Nick's choice of food. "... is nothing more than rolled up death mush in a wrap."

"Would you rather I ate a hot dog?" Nick said, mouth full of food, "I think there's some in the freezer."

Sara shook her head, rolling her eyes. "Yeah... tubular sticks of death are so much better. Maybe you should have some circular slices of death while you're at it."

Greg looked over at her, excited. "Bologna?"

"Woo, Greg gets a gold star." She winked appreciatively at him.

"So, Gris," Warrick asked, "What are you doing with Sara's lunch?"

"I thought it was mine," Grissom answered sheepishly. "I could've sworn I put it in the refrigerator."

"Sure it's not in your refrigerator in your office with your little experiments?" Sara asked, pulling the food away towards her and sitting in the chair beside him.

Grissom's only response was to shrug and stand from his chair. He grimaced watching her take a tentative bite from the sandwich. Watching Sara chew the dry, springy concoction sandwiched between bread, Grissom flinched and walked from the room.

Minutes later, Grissom walked back into the breakroom with another bag in his hand, amazingly similar to the one he had opened earlier. He placed himself back down in the chair that he had vacated just moments before. Gingerly, Grissom opened the bag in his hand and pulled out a turkey sandwich.

With a lopsided grin, Grissom commented, "Now, this looks more like something I would pack for lunch."

"Even though everyone's food has totally grossed me out, I'm starving. Who wants to go out for some food?"

Catherine looked at Warrick and grinned. Warrick answered for both of them. "Greg, I think Cath and I are out. She's had her fill of my food, and I'm not really hungry myself."

"Looks like you're on your own, Greg. Nick's had his daily dose of death, and Gris and I have both eaten as well."

"You didn't eat all the grass on the sandwich." Greg indicated the almost whole sandwich on the plastic baggy in front of her.

Sara nonchalantly reached over and took half of Grissom's sandwich off the table in front of him. "Looks like I've got it all taken care of."

She smiled before taking a large bite of the sandwich, earning a confused look from Grissom. Greg looked on with an equally bewildered look. Sara was eating meat. This could definitely prove interesting. Nick looked up to see her taking another bite out of the sandwich Grissom had brought into the room.

"Sara?" Nick raised an eyebrow.

"It's not like I'm breaking a law or anything." Taking another bite, she added, "I have a feeling it's not even real meat. Probably some of that tofu stuff that's made to taste like turkey. Mmm." She quickly walked from the room, carrying the sandwich in her hand.

"Grissom, is she..." Greg started to ask.

"Unfortunately, yes, she is right," he responded, watching her retreat. After all, Sara knew more about what he was eating than he did.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	9. Kiss And Tell

_Disclaimer:_ Please refer to Chapter one. I'm just not creative enough to think of something new for each chapter...

* * *

**A/N 1 – **Okay, I must admit, I'm not a vegetarian, but I am not a fan of meat. It's strange, I know, and people make fun of me for it. I think it's because I'm lazy and I hate cutting anything. My weak spots are a steak about once a year, a hamburger about once a month, and for some reason I love meatloaf. Oh, and, cheese is a horrid weakness of mine. I don't like fish – of any kind. I quite possibly could be a vegetarian, but I'm too lazy to change. I'm just lazy... and cheap. Meatless things are more expensive that meat itself.

Anyway... back to why I started telling you this: a note about the last chapter. I have never had tofurky, but it does intrigue me. I know of two people who have tried it. One adored it, while the other abhorred it. I have no idea where to get it, and buying something like that over the internet... well, it just plain scares me. I think I need to take up residence in a more cultured area of the US.

**A/N 2 – **Thanks for your continued support. You reviewers are awesome. I love hearing from you. I do hope you're enjoying yourselves so far and will continue to do so until the end.

* * *

Kiss And Tell

* * *

It was a gorgeous night, stars out in all of their glory. They stood on the balcony that was part of the restaurant at Mandalay Bay. Together, they stared up at the sky waiting to be called inside and be seated at their table.

"Mmm..." Sara hummed, brushing her shoulder against Grissom's shoulder.

"Enjoying yourself?" he asked rhetorically, placing his arm around her waist.

"I'm so excited my boss gave me tonight off so you and I could spend the evening together and actually go out on a date." Sara case a sideways glance at him. "He's a really nice guy sometimes."

"I hope that's in a platonic sense. I don't want to have to be jealous of him."

Sara's response was cut off abruptly by the shrill ringing of Grissom's phone. She frowned in serious disgust as he pulled it out, never checking the Caller ID and answered it. Her mind was filled with the possibilities of the romantic evening cut short.

"Grissom."

"_Gil, it's Jim. Swing's tapped out, and we've already called in Grave early. We've got a double homicide with your name all over it." He neglected the pleasantries and got right to business._

"Tapped? What happened this evening?"

"_We've got two single DBs – one in a parking garage, and one in the parking lot behind Hard Rock Café, a B&E somewhere in suburbia, a trick roll at the Palms, a missing person from the high school, a rape/murder in the park, a double at the Luxor, and the double for you on Mesa Vista Ave."_

"That's behind Mandalay Bay, right? I'm close by. I'll be there as soon as I can. I'll call Sara in to back me up." He clicked the phone shut abruptly after Brass gave him the specifics.

Sara turned to face him, encircling his neck with her arms. "Bad night, huh?"

"I'm sorry, honey. There're two DBs that need our attention." Grissom heaved an exaggerated sigh.

"It's not your fault – It's the job. You don't honestly expect me to be upset, do you?"

"I know you were looking forward to tonight. I was, too. We haven't even had a chance to eat, yet." He paused, looking very apologetic. "I'll drop you at the lab so you can pick up the kit from my office and use one of the SUVs, and I'll drive over to the scene. You can meet me there."

HR

"Gil," Brass called out to him, seeing his friend walking up the sidewalk to the front door of the house, "it's so good to see you this evening." Taking in Grissom's appearance in a suit, Brass whistled.

"What do we know so far, Jim?" Grissom ignored the reference to his attire.

"Some dimension of Hell has unleashed untold demons on our fair city," he joked.

"That's nothing new. So, tell me what is new."

Brass opened his mouth to speak, but stopped short when he saw Sara, crime scene kit in hand, striding up the path Grissom had just walked. Sara Sidle was wearing a dress – a short black dress which showed off her legs. Brass found himself staring until Grissom cleared his throat.

"Did I miss the memo on crime scene attire for the month?" Brass finally asked.

Grissom turned to face Sara. "That's not exactly fitting for a crime scene, is it, Ms. Sidle?" he asked, raising an eyebrow, scrutinizing her appearance from head to toe.

"I could say the same for you. Anyway..." Sara did her best at looking perturbed. "You didn't ask me where I was, what I was doing, or what I was wearing when you informed me my presence was necessary. You merely said to get here, so here I am."

"Do you have something to change into?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

"I didn't plan on needing anything other than this when I left the house, thank you very much. I can look in the Tahoe if my dress is bothering you." She smiled bitterly.

"Tahoe?" Grissom was working hard at feigning ignorance.

"I got dropped off at the lab to pick up the Tahoe. My car is still at my apartment. You said it was urgent. So, I assumed time was off the essence and didn't bother to go home for anything... Do you have a problem with that? Because... I'd be more than happy to go finish my date." Sara continued acting agitated.

Brass perked up at the word date. "That's what happened. You two caused this circle of Hell we've been transported to."

"As long as you can process in that," Grissom said, ignoring Brass's comment, "you can wear anything you please."

"Thank you for your approval, Dr. Grissom. Now, that that's settled, let's get to work."

Brass had watched the unusual banter with an amused smirk. He was not completely sure what he was watching, but somehow it did not seem strained... almost flirtatious. Sara brushed past the two men and walked through the front door of the house. Both watched her disappear through the doorway before either moved.

Before Brass was able to utter a word, Sara walked back outside the door. "Where are the bodies?" she asked with a frown.

"Out back – by the pool. Husband and wife were having a romantic interlude out there when things went south. Both peacefully sipping cocktails in lounge chairs, and boom, someone with a gun interrupts the party." Brass flashed her a devilish smile. "Looks like date night went awry... in more ways than one."

"Anyone have a pair of shoes I can borrow? These heels are killing me," Sara remarked while walking back down the path towards them, pulling her strappy shoes off as she went.

Grissom regarded her coolly for a moment. "I believe I had a pair of tennis shoes in my car." He held out his hand expectantly towards her.

"What?" Sara asked, narrowing her eyes.

"I'm taking your shoes as collateral," Grissom replied flatly, brandishing a lopsided grin. "You can't fault a guy for making sure his belongings are secured, can you?"

Reluctantly, Sara handed the shoes over, earning a chuckle from Brass. He was sure right at that moment that what he was seeing was flirting. The only thing confusing the detective was the semi-coldness coming from Grissom. The CSI supervisor was hiding something.

After Grissom returned with the shoes, Sara immediately recognized them. Not hard to do when they were her own shoes – the shoes she had been missing for about a month. The glare she gave Grissom would have withered flowers. Grissom merely shrugged and showed nothing other than his usual poker-faced façade.

Brass, against all the training he had ever received, misinterpreted the glare. "Women's shoes, Gil? Secret life we don't know about?"

Grissom responded with a trademark glare of his own. His lips pursed in agitation that was not a front. "Jim, don't you have someone to interview?"

Sara stood and shivered against the cool breeze that blew across her bare shoulders. Brass looked at Sara a moment longer, gauging her readiness to be alone with Grissom. Feeling the sting of the comment from moments ago, Brass took his cue and left the two CSIs to walk together to the backyard to work the scene.

A short while later, having found nothing new to report, Brass found himself wandering towards the back of the house where the CSIs were huddled together. He stood in the shadows, looking on with interest as they processed everything fluidly. Sara was doing her best at making it look easy to process a crime scene in a dress, and a short dress at that. At least it was not a long dress that hindered her movements, but hunkering down to pick up a piece of evidence in a dress barely hitting her knees required elegance that no one knew Sara Sidle possessed.

Brass saw Sara shudder slightly again. The wind had taken on a mildly bitter chill with the time approaching midnight. He deliberated over walking to his car to see if he had a spare jacket in there. He stopped contemplating that thought when he saw Grissom remove his suit jacket and hold it out for Sara to slip her arms inside. No words were exchanged, but there was a small smile of appreciation on Sara's face that Brass would have been remiss to miss.

The scene having been completely processed a few hours later, Sara began carrying the items to the SUV to store for the trip back to the lab. Brass walked gingerly over to Grissom as he was surveying the scene one last time. He stood silently beside his friend for a few moments, letting him store away the details of the case in his mind. When Grissom finally turned around, indicating it was time to leave, Brass frowned at the CSI.

"What?" Grissom found himself asking, looking the detective straight in the eyes. For a moment, Grissom hoped it was the case and not the slightly personal nature of the conversation of earlier that had the man vexed.

"You were at the same restaurant tonight," Brass stated, not mincing words. "That's how you knew that no one had called her in, yet."

"Your powers of deduction never cease to amaze me," Grissom merely responded, wondering whether he should ignore the detective's insinuation, offer a flippant remark, or outright deny the accusation.

"You know, Gil, we've been friends for a while... I only have one thing to say, and I'll let it go at that. If you're going to let yourself have a life outside of the lab, don't begrudge her having one either." He turned and walked away without another word.

Grissom studied the back of the detective as he walked away. Feelings of elation and disbelief at Brass's wrong assumption mingled together creating a cacophonous maelstrom of thoughts swirling around in his brain. He almost felt traitorous for deceiving his friends and coworkers... almost. When he saw Sara wink at him before climbing in the SUV, Grissom silenced the turbulent thoughts in his head.

At that moment, Grissom liked playing their unintended game. Outsmarting these trained individuals was actually kinda fun. He had worked with every one of these people and respected their insights and intelligence at catching the bad guys, but something about toying with their instinctive natures was invigorating. This was indeed the most enjoyable, albeit sometimes stressful, time in his life.

He winked back at the brunette. She was his little secret, and what a wonderful secret it was.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	10. Visual Aids

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N – **Okay... Sorry it's late and unedited. My mother informed me that I was to take her out of town, return date unknown. Note: Ten years living on your own still does not give you the ability to choose for yourself when you take a trip when your mother calls.

I didn't have a chance to upload this before we left town. I'm borrowing a phone briefly so you don't have to wait until God only knows when to see this. I won't actually have real internet access until I make my way home. So, I'll thank you in extra advance of your reviews since I won't see them until... well, I have no idea when. Enjoy, and thanks for hanging in here with me.

* * *

Visual Aids

* * *

"Hey, Arch, can you cue up the casino surveillance tape?" Nick asked, striding into the A/V Room.

"Not a problem, man... when you can get Grissom and Sara off my back about their robbery on Flamingo. I've got six traffic camera tapes and ten bank cameras I need to sync up," he responded, not removing his eyes from the screen.

"I don't care if he is the boss. He can't keep pushing his stuff in front of mine," Nick huffed and smacked his hand on the table.

"Who's pushing you around this time, Nicky?" Sara asked from the doorway.

Nick spun around to face her. For a moment he looked like a snake about to strike, but then cooled down. Sara's presence had taken him completely off-guard. "You're getting more and more like Grissom every day, Sar." He took a steadying breath, relaxing his frayed nerves.

"I'll take that as a compliment." A small but noticeable smile crossed her face at his comment before she pursed her lips, wiping it away just as quickly as it was there. "So... what's your problem?

"Grissom. He's putting his evidence in front of mine. It's not fair." He was whining, but he did not really care at that moment.

"He's the boss – he can do what he wants. But, for the record, it was me that asked Archie to run with our video evidence." She smiled brightly at him. "Don't get your boot caught in the stirrup, Cowboy. I got to him first. You can have him when we're done." She slid into the rolling chair beside Archie and began watching the recorded images hit the screen. Ignoring Nick's continued presence, she turned her attention to Archie. "So, what do we know so far?"

Nick stood for a moment staring at the back of Sara's head in disbelief. It was completely unlike her to be so flippant about evidence like that. He knew her to have been extremely adamant in her career about victims being equal, and now... well, this just pissed him off. Honestly, it was the only piece of evidence he had at that moment. This was putting his entire case on hold, and Sara appeared to not care less about it.

He spun on his heels again, but this time to leave the room, and barreled straight into Grissom, who was walking through the doorway. Grissom grunted and looked at Nick befuddled. For a few uncomfortable seconds, Nick stood in front of Grissom considering his options of going off on Grissom about the evidence queue or just letting it go.

"Are you okay, Nick? Something wrong?" Grissom asked the young man when he refused to move.

Nick opted for ignoring it. It was Grissom's case, after all, and he would surely side with Sara. He could not yell at the person getting the benefit of having the evidence put ahead. "I'm fine... Call me when you're done in there." Nick jerked a thumb over his shoulder towards the A/V Room where Archie and Sara were running over the tapes.

Grissom cocked an eyebrow and watched Nick walk away. Entering the room, he asked, "What happened to him?"

"I did," Sara replied, absent-mindedly watching the tapes on the screen. "He's upset because Archie is working on our stuff."

"He could've gone first. We've got other evidence to work." Grissom pulled up another chair to sit beside Sara.

"I was going to tell him that, but he was acting rude and like a baby. I couldn't have him thinking he would get through my soft side." Sara turned her head to smirk at Grissom.

"You have a soft side, Sara?" Archie butted into the conversation.

"Possibly, but I'm not talking." Her hand reflexively landed on Grissom's knee. "And, those who might know aren't talking either."

For the following hour, they sat plastered to the computer screens reviewing everything. Nick had paced by the door a few times only to stalk off back from where he came. He was tense, and it was causing the three people in the room to become agitated.

"Look, Archie, we're not getting anywhere right now. Move on to Nick's stuff. Page us when you're done, and we'll take a fresh look at everything then," Sara stated, dejectedly rising from her chair.

Grissom followed in tow as they exited the room. This time, however, Grissom was able to get out of the way before Nick ran into him. "Nick, you work with Archie on your tapes."

"Now that you're through, sure," Nick mumbled almost incoherently.

* * *

Hours later, Grissom and Sara sat slumped over the computer running massive amounts of prints after the print tech gave up on them. They had hundreds of prints from the bank doorways, counters, and walls, and most chances were that most of them would not pan out to be the armed robbers. Sara finally decided that they needed a break from the print monotony. She dragged Grissom along to the A/V Lab to see where Nick's progress stood.

Walking into the room, the pair found that Archie was sitting alone in the dark, illuminated only by the glow of his computer screen. "I thought you were going to page us as soon as you were done with Nick? Grissom asked the audio/visual guru.

"I pulled up one of the traffic cams, and I saw something interesting across the street. So... I decided to take a better look at it. Pull up a chair." He pointed to the screen. "See here? A female walks out of the diner, around the corner, and talks to someone. Might be something... Might be nothing... But, I thought it might be worth a look."

Sara cringed in her chair. She glanced briefly at Grissom, who seemingly was totally oblivious to what was on the screen. "I, uh... don't think that's going to be helpful. Let's move on to something else." Her tone was serious, and the words came out too quickly.

"Sara, the evidence is the evidence. We need to look at all of it. It may be nothing, but we won't know that until we examine it." Grissom reprimanded her in his boss tone of voice.

"She had nothing to do with the bank heist," Sara reasserted herself.

"Sara..." Grissom turned to face her. "We can't tell that from looking at the back of the woman's head. She's in the vicinity of the bank, having a conversation with someone in the dark, and all of this within hours of when the bank was robbed."

Sara glared at Grissom after checking to make sure that Archie's eyes were trained on the monitor. She lowered her voice to barely a whisper as she leaned in to Grissom's ear. In a serious tone, Sara annunciated every syllable of each word particularly plain for him to understand without question or hesitation. "Yes, a female, outside a diner, around a corner, in the dark, on Flamingo, and two hours before our shift began."

Suddenly, realization dawned on Grissom as he listened to her words and took in what she was wearing, mentally comparing it to the woman on the computer monitor. He looked back over at the computer screen to see that the trunk of his car, though enveloped in darkness like the rest of the vehicle, was slightly exposed, sticking out from between the two SUVs it was sandwiched between. Hopefully, it was not recognizable to anyone else quite so easily or from any other direction on any of the other tapes.

Archie's voice interrupted Grissom's thoughts. "I think this angle is the clearest picture of her."

They watched the tape play through until the woman was gone into the darkness. So, Archie rewound it to the best spot he could find, froze it, enlarged the frame, and clicked on the button to sharpen the image. And there it was, blown up for the world to see – Sara's face caught peeking out of the shadows briefly. Her face was contorted in laughter as someone's arms wrapped around her midsection. The trio in the room sat in pained silence staring at the screen, dumbfounded by the revelation.

"Well," Sara said, embarrassedly, "It is Vegas... There are cameras everywhere. It was bound to happen, right? I mean, I work in a building full of investigators, and it took an accidental trip in front of a camera to let it all out of the bag." Her eyes darted to Grissom.

"Well, Sara... you could've saved us the trouble and just said that it was you. Then, we could've concentrated on the case rather than your apparent date." Archie looked knowingly at her. She was clearly embarrassed to be caught in that situation and more importantly with her boss watching it happen.

"Do I have to pay you or threaten you to get you to say that no one outside of this room will hear about it? Sara asked, narrowing her eyes.

"Well, you could tell me who you were with and save the taxpayers' expense of me spending hours watching the tapes to find out myself."

Sara swallowed hard. Her face was turning redder by the second. "You do realize that you just said that in front of Grissom?" Archie only shrugged in response, and Sara continued, "If I were to tell you, that'd only be more fuel for the rumor mill."

Grissom looked Archie over. Carefully choosing his words, Grissom spoke, "I think that whatever Sara does in her time away from the lab is her business, and it is best that none of us ever speak of this again. Understood, Archie?"

"Completely." The tech looked guiltily back at the screen and resumed the video playing at its original resolution.

Grissom gave Sara a sideways look on the way out of the room, and she slumped a little lower in her chair. Her mind was completely blown by the video evidence and what Archie would actually do about it. Watching the tape, Sara spied Grissom walking in the darkness over to his car and driving out of the parking lot. Thankfully, he had been veiled in the dark for the entire walk, and Sara had parked her own car on the other side of the lot.

Sara found her voice a few minutes later. "Arch... you're not really going to check all the other tapes are you?"

Archie turned towards her with a feral grin. "Actually, I already did," he admitted, "Before you two got here, I had taken the liberty to look at all of them, and that was the last one I needed to look at." He glanced back at the computer screen and spoke softly, "And, this should put your mind at ease: That was the best shot, and the guy is never clear in the picture."

"Thank you," Sara breathed, the relief evident in her sigh.

"Thank you, nothing. I wouldn't spread that around the lab. Well, not unless it was juicy..." A strange, sly grin spread across his face at that point. "Now, if I were ever to spot Grissom on tape... Well, let's just say that word might leak out."

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	11. Experiment

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N - **I'm still away, but I managed to get to the phone again to make another update. It's utterly amazing how traveling to BFE makes you miss the comforts of home like internet at the touch of your fingers rather than eleven miles away. At least I have electricity and running water.

But, please, don't get me wrong – I'm enjoying myself. It's one of the small pleasures in my otherwise boring life, actually. My favorite part this trip is that I finally had a chance to hang the tire swing that's been sitting around for years. Everyone should have a tire swing. It's so cathartic... Seriously.

I see that I've gotten a lot of reviews, but at the rate I'm paying for internet service ($0.55 a minute), I can't afford to read them until I get home. Thank you, guys! I can't wait to get home and read them. Hope you're enjoying.

* * *

Experiment

* * *

"There's no way those bodies were stuffed in the trunk like that while they were alive. They had to've been capped beforehand," Greg stated firmly.

"Capped, Greg?" Sara eyed him curiously. "Too much rap music for you. Someone needs to cut you off."

Greg merely shrugged. He continued looking at the trunk of the car. Warrick watched from the doorway as Greg and Sara discussed the placement of the bodies and Grissom watched their banter with interest.

"Sara," Warrick finally spoke, "The female victim was about your size. Get in and prove that it was possible."

To her credit, Sara refrained from making a face that was too sour at the concept. She did frown slightly at the thought of being shut in the trunk, however. At least the bodies had been wrapped in plastic and had not been dead more than a few hours. So, the thought of getting into the trunk after it had already been cleared for evidence was not as daunting as it could have been. Deep in thought, Sara considered the prospect of actually testing the theory.

"I can't prove it alone..." Sara continued to deliberate if it really mattered.

"I'll do it!" Greg nearly shouted at them, overly pleased at the prospect of being that close to Sara.

Sara crossed her arms protectively across her chest while speaking slowly and clearly. "Greg... I think you're dreaming if you believe it's even possible I'd consider getting in the trunk of a BMW with you. That's an incredibly small trunk." She shook her head for emphasis. "Even for the sake of science, there's no way in Hell I'm getting in there... Nope."

"Sara," Grissom started, "It's just an experiment... I'm sure Greg would be the perfect gentlemen."

Her jaw dropped in utter shock. After she closed it, Sara's mouth still worked itself open and shut a few times trying to make sense of the accusations and refusals running rampant through her mind. Her narrowed gaze at Grissom almost caused him to flinch.

"You're not seriously expecting me to hop in the trunk of that car with Greg." She spun around to face Greg finally. "No offense, Greg. I really don't mean to be mean... but... really, you're the king of inappropriate innuendo. I don't really think I want to be the butt of your office rumors after a compromising situation like that could be misconstrued."

"Using dummies is out," Warrick offered, "They don't move like people. Too many moveable parts." His grin not faltering for a second.

"You guys figure it out. I'm going to check on those fibers we dropped off in Trace. When I get back, someone better have something for me." Grissom walked out leaving them speculating.

"No, no, no," Sara reiterated. "Get Catherine."

"Two reasons we can't do that," Warrick reminded her. "One: You're about the same size as the vic while Catherine's too short. Two: There's no way Catherine would ever find herself in the truck of a car."

"Maybe just a back seat..." Sara mumbled, dropping her arms to her sides in defeat. Receiving a hearty laugh from both of the men in the room with her, Sara felt a twitch of a smile cross her face.

The three of them stood at the trunk of the car, staring at it. It was almost as if they expected the trunk to tell them what to do. They each knew it might help them slightly to know if the victims were killed in the trunk or killed elsewhere and shoved in the trunk. If they needed to locate the actual crime scene, time was of the essence.

"Come to think of it..." Greg replied dejectedly, "I'm not the same size as the male victim. So, me getting in there won't really help."

"It might be probative to the investigation to at least have a definitive answer to whether it was even possible for them to get situated in the trunk like that," Grissom answered the young CSI from the door.

They all jumped at the reappearance of Grissom. They had all been immersed in their thoughts and had not heard him enter the room again. Grissom walked in further, looking into the trunk himself. No one wanted to be the one to say it, but it had to be said. They needed to find someone more suiting to the male victim's size, no matter what Grissom said.

"Gris, are you claustrophobic?" Warrick hesitantly asked of his boss.

"Oh, no...!" Sara replied defiantly, crossing her arms defensively, "No!" Her face became stricken with fear.

In true Grissom fashion, he turned with a poker face and stared Warrick down for a few very tense seconds. His lips involuntarily pursed in anticipation, mulling over his choice of words. Grissom's gaze flickered embarrassedly towards Sara.

"I... I think we should not entertain that thought," he replied evenly.

All four of them were apprehensive at how out of hand the situation had gotten and how potentially worse it could get. They all had felt the tension between Grissom and Sara over the years, but no one would admit to it. The two had been getting along well over the previous months, and this could quite possibly set them back. It was a touchy situation to say the least, but one that had to be broached for the sake of the case.

"I'm _not_ getting in the trunk," Sara stated, clearly showing her non-cooperation at the situation. If she had been a three year-old, Sara knew she would have been stomping her feet on the floor and waving her arms at her sides. She felt like doing it anyway. Maybe then they would ignore her and move on to other avenues of figuring out this puzzle.

She was all for the sake of reenacting the crime, but this was pushing the limits of her dedication. If she were to get in the trunk alone, there would have been no hesitation at all, but being in there with another member of the team was disconcerting. On top of that, she could not look pleased with the prospect that it would be Grissom rather than Greg or people would immediately think something was amiss.

"My offer is still on the table, Sara." Greg winked at her.

Grissom was still hesitant, but gave in reluctantly. Someone had to do it, and he really had not wanted it to be Greg. After much deliberation, they all decided it would be for the best, and Sara laid down the ground rule. No one would ever talk about it again. What happened in the garage was staying in the garage.

"Okay, the female was in the back part near the seats. Ladies first," Grissom stated with a smirk and a wave of his hand, indicating Sara should get in first.

She cleared her throat overly loud and approached. She curled her lip and put her hands on the lip of the trunk opening. Turning to look at the other CSIs one last time, she saw the group of three shaking their heads. They knew she was considering backing out at the last minute.

After she was settled, Grissom approached the trunk. One corner of his mouth twitched into a smile as he stared down at her. Slowly, his smile turned into a sadistic grin as he stepped into the trunk. Sara shrunk as far away from his as she could in the confined space. It was awkward being this close to Grissom at work with people watching.

Greg and Warrick watched with rapt curiosity as the pair made their first contact as Grissom lowered himself fully into the trunk. It was explosive tension as they fitted together. They were hesitant to touch each other, trying to find a place to put their hands.

"Sara," Grissom breathed, "I think we're going to have to... uh, touch each other."

She shifted nervously to allow him more room and to press his body up against her. "They were facing each other? Right?" she asked, her breath hitching in her throat.

"Yes. And, their legs were intertwined, I believe," Grissom responded.

Warrick held up the photos from the scene for both of them to look at from their position in the trunk. Grissom moved one leg in between Sara's and gently placed the other one on top. They molded into the same position as the bodies in the photographs.

"Close the trunk," Grissom ordered softly.

"What!" Sara shrieked.

Grissom swallowed hard. "We have to see if we can move around in here... That's the only way to truly know if there's a possibility that they got themselves into this position or not."

Sara shrunk visibly in resignation to that statement. Her resolve was slipping at being able to remain detached at the situation and not hold him differently. It was wearing on every nerve in her body to think of how to act uninvolved with Grissom. She feared that any move she made would give them away, that Warrick or Greg would realize that her actions were that of a lover and not an unrequited love.

Luckily, it was the latter that the two outside of the car believed they were seeing in the tension between the two that were in the trunk. Grissom watched Sara's frightened eyes as the trunk lid was clicked shut and darkness overtook them. His own eyes were slightly nervous, but only because he was unsure how much of this was going to be spread through the rumor mill, even after Sara's earlier threats.

"I can't believe we're doing this. I'm a nervous wreck. I don't know how to touch you," she murmured barely loud enough for Grissom to hear her.

Grissom heaved a small laugh in response as he began shifting around in the trunk. The car bounced on its shocks with their movements in the small space. He found it actually quite easy to roll over, and Sara joined in a few seconds later. It was by no means comfortable, but it was enough for them to be able to move around together. So, it was entirely possible that the pair of bodies they found were placed in there prior to their deaths.

"Okay," Grissom called out to the other CSIs, "Open the trunk. We're through in here."

"Um, Gris, I think we might have a problem," Warrick answered him.

"What's that?" Sara found herself asking, knowing just what the answer was.

"Grissom, where's the key?" Greg asked with a panicky giggle. "We all arrived after you had the trunk already open."

"I don't know where the keys are. It was open when I arrived. Find them or get Auto Detail or a detective or someone to pop the lock," Grissom ordered through the thin metal of the trunk.

"Make it fast. I don't want to die in here," Sara added through clenched teeth, "And, keep the exposure of this little incident to a minimum."

Ironically, it was Sofia they found first. She followed them dutifully along, carrying the piece of equipment to force open the lock on the trunk of the offending vehicle. Her movements were fluid and fast, making quick work of the job at hand. The metallic pop told them that the lock was opened, leaving the trunk lid ajar.

After the trunk was unlocked, Warrick placed his hand on the trunk, holding it shut. Sofia backed away, but did not leave. She watched and waited for someone to open the trunk to curb her curiosity. Even though no one said why they needed it open, she knew there had to be a story behind it because Auto Detail would have reopened the trunk if needed after it was hauled into the garage to finish the processing. Hands on hips, she stood defiantly until Warrick slid his hand to the side and pulled the trunk lid up.

Sofia audibly gasped as Sara and Grissom popped their heads up out of the trunk, but made no moved to extricate themselves from each other or the confines of the enclosure they were placed precariously in. They breathed deeply as the fresh air filled their lungs.

Grissom sighed and began to move out of the trunk. He spied Sofia and averted his gaze quickly. Sara followed quickly behind, holding Grissom's hands. He steadied her as she rose from the trunk and regained her footing. Sara, unlike Grissom, stared Sofia down, willing her to make a sarcastic comment.

"Well," Grissom broke the silence, "I believe we at least have our answer. It was entirely possible they were both alive at the time they were placed in the trunk."

"It wasn't comfortable," Sara added, "but, completely plausible. The position of their bodies in relation to how a killer or captor would've placed them in there leads me to believe they died in the trunk."

"Great. So, that leaves us with...?" Greg asked.

"Still debating how they died, but not as much where," Sara responded automatically, still thinking about the trunk.

Sofia added, "They both died of a drug overdose. While you were out here playing pretend, I was following a few leads, and I stopped in to get the Toxicology report."

Much unlike anyone would have expected, Sara and Grissom were completely contented with each other after the trunk encounter. They were carrying on a normal conversation about the case, and standing at ease beside each other. Even Sofia seemed unnerved when her jab went unanswered.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	12. Bones

_Disclaimer:_ Please refer to Chapter one. I'm just not creative enough to think of something new for each chapter...

* * *

**A/N – **Woo. I'm still away, but I should be coming home within the next few days. I seriously need a vacation from my vacation. I can't wait to get home and sleep in my own bed. Hope you're enjoying these still and I haven't lost you somewhere along the way. I've still got a few ideas bouncing around in my head, and I'm diligently typing away into the wee hours of the night.

* * *

Bones

* * *

"You're looking at... at least four bodies. Three female and one male from what I can discern so far," the blonde doctor, the epitome of intelligence and results in her profession, surmised.

"So, four?" Nick asked, making an attempt at getting the good doctor to make a definitive answer.

"At this point, I can definitely tell you there are four... at least four. The more bone fragments you bring me, the more complex it gets... yet, the more answers I can give you," she answered him, looking up with her eyes, but her head still facing downward toward the bones on the table.

"We've got an unidentified number of puzzles mixed together with an unknown amount of pieces." Grissom walked into the room further, finally making his presence known.

Teri Miller swung her head upwards in Grissom's direction, stunned and apparently pleased to see him. Her smiled greeted him as he walked up next to her. "Hello, Gil. It's nice to see you again."

"You as well, Teri. I'm glad to see that you got my message and were able to come here on such short notice."

"You were lucky," Teri responded, a little too sultry. "I was in L.A. for a conference and had the opportunity to postpone my flight to Seattle." She met Grissom's eyes directly, pointedly speaking to him, "Not to say that I wouldn't have responded anyway. It's always a pleasure to be called to Las Vegas."

Nick and Catherine lined one side of the morgue table while Teri Miller and Grissom were standing on the other side when Sara walked silently through the doorway. Otherwise unaffected, she smirked at the gathering hovering over the piles of bones.

Unnoticed by everyone except Nick, Sara crept over to the drawered wall on the other side of the room. Reading the names on the doors, she made her best attempt not to overhear the conversation between the four other people in the room, however in vain.

"So, Teri, it's been a while since we've seen you. How are you doing?" Catherine asked conversationally.

"Keeping busy. It seems that with an impending divorce people assume I'm going to be spending more time in the field, consulting." Teri's voice remained calm and even, but her eyes flickered ever so quickly towards Grissom.

Nick watched as Sara's hand stilled on the handle before pulling the door open and yanking the drawer out of the wall. Her demeanor maintained professional and detached, but Nick feared that Sara might be feeling the sting of Teri's statement. After watching Sara interacting with Grissom for years and feeling the tension between them, it would be hard to deny that she would feel nothing except animosity for Teri.

"Damn it," Sara stated from the other side of the room.

Catherine's eyes snapped up on an even plane with Nick's as he was already watching Sara, while Teri and Grissom turned their backs to get a better look at what was happening. Nick cringed inside as his hand gripped the edge of the morgue table. This was the moment he had been dreading.

"What's wrong, Sara?" Grissom asked, earning a somewhat distasteful and unseen glance from Nick. He could not believe Grissom could be so oblivious.

"I told David not to wash the body, but apparently—" Her words were lost as she slammed the drawer shut, concealing the body back in the wall. "—Hodges contaminated the Trace sample I gave him earlier, and I needed to go over the body again... There's a chance I can still use a portion of the sample, but I didn't want to resort to that just yet." Sara spun on her heels. "I didn't mean to interrupt your—Oh, hello, Dr. Miller."

In spite of the morgue being cold already, Nick almost believed the temperature dropped a few extra degrees, but he realized he was wrong when he saw a large, genuine smile flash across Sara's face. Sara and Teri squared off with a stare across the room. Teri had not responded, but the smile stayed splayed on Sara's face, stunning Nick and Catherine.

"It's good to see you again, Dr. Miller. I do hope my colleagues are treating you well. It was painful to watch them trying to piece it together before you arrived," Sara said, breaking the silence.

"I will always render my services to the Las Vegas Crime Lab whenever my assistance is requested. I find that the cases and environment here are invigorating."

"That's good to know. Well," Sara stated, "I'm going to go see what Greg found out from DNA on our John Doe. I'll let you get back to work." She began her walk back out of the room.

"Sara, do you want me to speak with Hodges?" Grissom asked, an unusual amount of concern in his voice.

"No, no. Fortunately for him, I've got a few ideas on how to rectify the situation. Unfortunately for him, I'm going to be putting it all in my report, and some people overheard what happened. I think he's very sorry about it already." Her smile spread even further across her face. "Bye," she said cheerfully on exit.

The four left in the room quietly resumed working on the bodies. Nick and Catherine shared a confused look at Sara's apparent indifferent behavior.

* * *

Having passed the end of their shift and lunchtime approaching, Sara ambled into the breakroom to get her lunch. Nick sat quietly on the couch, reading a magazine. He watched as Sara pulled her lunch from the refrigerator and plopped down at the breakroom table.

"Wha'cha got for lunch?" he asked, making light conversation, attempting to feel out her mood.

"Egg salad sandwich. Nothing like eating a sandwich you made over twelve hours earlier. Mm-mm." Sara grinned up at him. "Any new techniques or developments to discuss from your reading?"

Nick eyed her quizzically, then shared the same look with the magazine he was holding. "In _People_?" he asked with a sheepish grin.

"Oh," Sara said, embarrassed herself, having not really looked at what magazine he was reading. "Now, that's some intellectual reading right there," she joked.

"This is how I relax. Try it sometime."

"Thanks, but no. I've got other relaxation techniques."

Grissom and Teri walked into the room on the tale end of that statement. Nick looked worried for a moment, quite possibly taking Teri's appearance at the Crime Lab worse than Sara. She frowned at his concerned expression and turned around to see what it was that had him looking so pensive.

"Oh, hey. I'm just taking a quick break. I'll get you an update on my case in about ten minutes if that's okay," Sara spoke to Grissom after regarding Teri with a nod of greeting.

"You can get it to me later. I know you're working on it... I just invited Teri out to lunch, and I was wondering if either of you wanted to come along."

"Sorry, Grissom, I already ate," Nick replied, looking back down at his magazine.

"Yeah, we all smell the healthy microwave meal you just had... Pizza?" Sara swung her head around to look at him, condescending grin in place.

Never taking his eyes off of the magazine, Nick replied quietly, "Pizza burrito actually..."

Sara chuckled, pulling her sandwich from the plastic bag. She had completely forgotten that Grissom was waiting on her answer. Actually, she had almost forgotten that he was in the room.

"Do I take that as a no, Sara?" Grissom asked.

"Oh, uh... yeah. I'm fine here. I'm going to stay close to Greg on this one. We've got a few leads and I need to get you that report..." She picked the soggy sandwich up from the table, curling her lip.

"I'll bring you something back. Don't eat that," Grissom demanded, leading Teri from the room.

Nick looked up, seeing an utterly shocked expression on Sara's face. "Grissom's buying you lunch?"

"Shouldn't've eaten that nasty burrito. You could've mooched off of his generosity, too."

"Don't get too used to it. I'll bet you $20 as soon as she's gone, he'll be back to normal," Nick stated, rising from his seat, leaving the magazine on the table.

Sara hid her smile until Nick was gone. Little did Nick realize that Grissom was acting normally – normal for responding to Sara's needs. He was only showing it outwardly in front of other people because Teri was there and did not want her to get the wrong impression about his intentions.

Grissom and Teri were back in thirty minutes, sandwich bags in hand. Grissom had paged Sara and had her bring Greg to the breakroom, too. Curious, yet hesitant, Greg followed a few steps behind Sara when she entered the breakroom.

Teri watched Sara and Greg enter the room, her gaze lingering on Sara a few extra seconds than necessary. Sara's eyes remained on Grissom, smiling her thanks for the food. Greg eyed the bags on the table while Grissom stared at the wall.

Grissom pushed a bag towards Sara and another towards Greg. "I seriously doubt you had anything to eat, Greg. Here." He had not set out to get Greg food, but it seemed right at the time since he was getting something for Sara and wanted to appear impartial.

Sara smiled again and thanked him, grabbing her fresh egg salad sandwich and pickle out of the bag. Greg nervously opened the bag to find a club sandwich, and almost giddily responded when he realized how hungry he actually was. Easy conversation followed until Greg was paged away. A slight lull ensued, but Sara quickly filled it with a few questions about anthropology.

As Catherine and Nick approached the breakroom, they saw Grissom, Teri, and Sara making polite conversation over their meals. They both stopped mid-stride, observing the trio's interactions. Sara was laughing at something Teri had just said.

"What in the hell happened to Sara?" Catherine asked quietly.

"She's been like this all night," Nick responded, a shrug lifting his shoulders.

"She's been non-confrontational about almost everything lately. I expected her to have some negative reaction to Teri being here." Catherine stopped herself from placing her hands on her hips in defiant confusion.

"It's like every jealous or unhappy bone in her body was removed." A small twinkle lit up Nick's eyes. "Fifty bucks says she's got a secret guy."

"I can't take that bet..." Catherine saw the bewildered look on Nick's face. "She's definitely got someone on the side. And, it's not like her to keep that a secret for too long. So, you might want to start taking bets on _who_."

The pair shared a knowing, conspiratorial look and finished their walk into the breakroom to pull Teri and Grissom away to view the developments in their case.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	13. Rituals And Rules

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N – **Thank you. Words cannot express what I'm feeling right now. I came home a mere three hours ago to the most wonderful responses that I could never have expected in my wildest dreams. I want to express my deepest thanks to everyone. I do hope you're enjoying this, because there is more to come.

I had a grand time while I was gone, and thanks to those of you that wished me a safe and happy journey. It was good to get away for a while. However, that said, I won't be looking to do it again for a while to come.

* * *

Rituals And Rules

* * *

Sara was hunched over the body, her flashlight moved rhythmically scanning for evidence. The squint in her eye was scrutinizing everything, her stare intent.

Grissom hunkered down on the other side of the body. "Find anything?"

"Mm..." Sara continued scanning the body, not looking up. "Not yet."

Leaving her alone to her work, Grissom walked back across the room. Silently he watched her while he looked over the kitchen for anything amiss. Sara glanced up and watched him work his way around the appliances.

Suddenly, a realization came to her. "Gris, can you come over here for a second?"

Nick and Greg, busy with looking over the rest of the apartment, stopped what they were doing and glanced over in her direction. Hoping she had found something important, they watched as Grissom walked over to her and kneeled down behind her. As she pulled her gaze from the body up to see them looking, the pair went back to work.

"What'd you find?" he asked expectantly.

Her eyes never left the body as she whispered, "Did you turn off the coffee pot?"

"What?" Grissom was confused with the connection. "I was just in the kitchen, but I didn't touch anything. You know better than that."

Sara briefly scanned the room with her eyes, her voice still a whisper. "No. No. I was wondering about earlier... before work."

Slightly turning his head to look at her, Grissom was still confused. As he eyed her skeptically, he thought back over the evening before they left for work. He dropped his voice to a mere murmur. "We didn't drink any coffee until after we arrived at the lab. We were running late..." He lowered his voice further in an almost growl. "If you remember..."

A blush crossed Sara's face as she recalled the evening. The small smile on her face confirmed to Grissom that she remembered very clearly how she had started the coffee and returned to bed. They barely had time to shower and get to the lab in time to start the shift, let alone drink coffee.

"That's going to be a mess when we get home in the morning," Sara grumbled.

"Not my fault," he breathed into her hair.

Greg interrupted the pair, "So, what's this about coffee talk over a dead body?"

Momentarily, Sara was dumbstruck. She had broken rule number two: Do not make verbal references to the relationship at work. Not only had she broken it, but she had been caught breaking it. She continued to search the body, willing herself to find something on it so she could change the subject.

Grissom, poker face in place, turned to the young man. "Just a hypothesis about morning or evening rituals. I don't believe it will probative to the investigation."

Greg shrugged and went back to work, seemingly oblivious to the relieved look on both Grissom's and Sara's faces. Grissom walked to the other side of the body so he could face her. She was directly averting her eyes. There was nothing on the body, and they both knew it – she had been examining the body for almost an hour.

With a quick glance behind him, Grissom gently reached over and touched Sara's chin pulling her face up to look at him. He dropped his hand as her eyes met his. The raised eyebrow and minor purse of his lips reprimanded Sara into a frown and a nod of her head. When he walked away, Sara fought back a small smirk. Grissom had just broken rule number one: No touching in any way remotely intimate at work.

* * *

"Her boyfriend says she drank coffee every morning before she left for work," Greg stated as he walked into the room, disrupting the quiet that was taking place.

"Huh?" Sara looked up from the microscope. She was utterly and completely confused as to what coffee had to do with anything. Her eyebrows could not possibly have gotten any closer together than if he had been speaking an obscure foreign language.

"The vic. She always started a pot of coffee as soon as she got up in the morning," he explained.

"Coffee? You brewin' a special pot?" Nick asked, walking into the room as well.

Greg turned around to regard the newest addition to the room. "No. After Sara's mention of coffee earlier, I started thinking about it. So, I asked the boyfriend. He says she had coffee every morning. It was like clockwork – the first thing she did when after turning off the alarm clock. Didn't really find anything out, though."

Sara was still perplexed and slightly annoyed at being reminded about the coffee pot she had left on that evening. "Maybe she was... getting a late start on her morning." She turned back to the microscope, making an attempt at hiding her unease. "Don't make too much out of it, Greg. It was just a random thought. No offense, but you might want to check out a real lead."

Nick and Greg shared an annoyed look as Sara ignored their presence. She had been in a good mood when she arrived at CSI headquarters, but a distracted and grumpy mood overtook her on the drive back from the crime scene. Neither was willing to tangle with her when she was upset about something. They'd talk to her later if she did not snap out of it fast enough.

Sara got up from her seat a few minutes later, unable to shake herself of the fact that the complex might be aflame when she got home. Or, maybe they would just have a black sticky mess drying on the floor that would take hours to clean up. She walked to Grissom's office in an effort to alleviate her fears.

"Gris, I'm going to run home when I get a chance. I really need to turn off the coffee pot." Sighing, she leaned against the doorjamb.

"Bothering you that much?" he asked without looking up from a file. His voice was strained, and he appeared to be on edge.

"And, not bothering you enough. It's going to be a horrible mess," she bit back. Sara felt herself falling into his bad mood and reacting to it, however unintentional.

Grissom finally looked up at her. "Well, go ahead and go now. Might as well get it off your mind before you're distracted any further by it."

Looking at his eyes, Sara could tell immediately what was wrong and backed off. The red tint was tell-tale, even though she had only seen it once before. "I'm not distracted. Greg just brought up the coffee thing again, and it started making me think about it... I just don't want to deal with it later." She turned sideways in the door. "You want me to pick anything up for you while I'm there?"

"I'm going to be stuck here at my desk behind paperwork for the rest of the shift." He looked back down at the file, rubbing the bridge of his nose. "So, a migraine pill if you're going home. I ran out here a week ago, and I think I'm going to need it."

Sara frowned during the entire drive. As she entered the townhouse, Sara realized there was no burnt coffee smell as she had expected. _Wait a minute. I... Oh, my God. I never..._ She had put grounds and water in but never actually flipped the switch. Sara grabbed the pill bottle from the cupboard and walked back out to her car.

She felt mild embarrassment at sprinting from the lab like that, but at least there was no mess to clean up. Tossing the empty bottle on the seat she, sighed. At least the trip was for some use. Suddenly, Sara was struck by the odd conversation with Greg earlier. She grabbed her cell phone and dialed.

Without waiting for him to even answer after she heard him pick up the phone, Sara launched into her conversation. "Greg, where'd the boyfriend say he was the morning the girl died?"

"_Uh, wha?"_

"The boyfriend? What was his alibi for the vic's TOD?" Sara grew impatient.

"_He said he was at home."_

"Not with her?"

"_Um, no. I believe that saying you're at home when you're not living with someone means you're at your own place... You got a lead? What're you thinking?"_

"It's a shot in the dark. Find out what the detectives got from their interviews from the neighbors. I've got an errand to run, so I'll be back at the lab in a little while," she hastily replied, snapping her phone shut and breaking a few laws as she sped across town to the pharmacy. Leave it to Grissom to forget to refill his prescription.

Arriving back at the lab, Sara had to restrain herself from sprinting into the lab. She had no real reason to suspect she was right. It was just an idea, and it would not mean anything until they had evidence to back it up. Not much could have happened while she was gone for an hour and a half anyway.

"Sara!" Greg shouted from the other end of the hall, "You've gotta see this!"

Her eyebrow shot up as far as it would go. She picked up her pace a little and made her way down the hall to the conference room. Nick and Grissom were seated at the table where Greg had just plopped down. Sara watched from the doorway, still wondering what the hurry was.

Grissom looked up at her expectantly, rubbing his temples. Sara pulled the pills out of her pocket and handed them to him as discretely as possible. He looked utterly pleased at having the pills and popped one in his mouth and followed it by a large gulp of water.

"Bad morning, boss?" Nick asked good-naturedly.

"Uh, no. I think it was just my lack of coffee." Grissom continued to rub his head, not so much for his headache, but more for hiding the slight smile appearing there.

"Speaking of coffee..." Sara walked further into the room. "What'd you find out about the boyfriend?"

Greg looked far too pleased. "It was a great hunch. The next door neighbor said he was there. Says there was shouting and breaking things. Then the front door slammed, and she watched through the peephole in her door as he left."

Nick looked up at Sara. "How'd you know the guy was there?"

"I didn't. It was just an idea. Sometimes..." She glanced at Grissom. "something you do every morning is interrupted by someone else."

"Huh?" Nick and Greg asked at the same moment.

Grissom looked thoughtful for a moment. "You never had anyone spend the night at your place?" He stood and walked towards the door. "Makes mornings incredibly different. Like forgetting something that you'd usually do like make coffee... or fill a prescription."

Grissom walked out, leaving the three other CSIs behind. Sara threw herself into a chair and pried the file away from Greg. She studied it hard, fighting a frown. She wondered whether Grissom was upset or happy about the way their day started.

"That's what's wrong with you today, huh?" Nick threw out the question, watching Sara intently, gauging her reaction.

Sara peeked over the top of the folder at him. "There's nothing wrong with me." She immediately thought of ways to explain away thoughts of her and Grissom together.

"You got that vibe off of Grissom, too?" Greg shuddered, looking at Nick.

"What Grissom does in his own time is... his own thing. I tend not to think about it." Sara hid behind the file, purposefully hiding the flush creeping up on her face.

"Sara, can I see you in my office?" Grissom asked from the doorway.

Nick and Greg looked at each other frightfully, each wearing a deer in the headlights look. They had no idea how long Grissom had been at the door or how much he had heard. Stock still, they stared down at the table, waiting for the reprimand.

Sara stood and dropped the file on the table in front of Greg. "Good work, Greggo. Let me know what happens with the follow-up."

"Thanks, Sara, but it was all you."

"Call it a team effort. I didn't have inspiration by myself." Sara turned and followed Grissom down the hall with a smile turning up the corner of her mouth.

Grissom turned to Sara once he was in his office. "Thank you for refilling the prescription. I thought about it after you left. You didn't..."

"I didn't have to, no. I wanted to." Sara glanced out in the hallway. "I couldn't bear the thought of you having a headache because of not having your pills."

"Is the coffee pot salvageable?"

"I forgot to turn it on it seems."

They stared at each other for a few minutes allowing the silence to wash over them. A stalemate of sorts. Each replaying the events of the day in their heads. Grissom because he wanted to figure out how his life was going so right. Sara because she was trying to figure out if things were bad.

"Thank you for making me forget about coffee and prescriptions and all the little things in life, for making the big things more important." He smiled at her.

Sara smiled back. "Coffee's not a small thing in life. I'll have to work on that."

As she walked down the hallway, the smirk on her face completely baffled Nick and Greg as she passed them. Never had they believed she would smile after leaving Grissom's office. Grissom making peace with Sara made all of their lives easier.

"Shift's almost over, Sara," Nick called out, "Wanna go for drinks?"

"No, but thanks," Sara called over her shoulder, "I've got someone's day to screw up."

"There's something weird going on around here lately," Greg whispered.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	14. XRated

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N 1 –** Get your minds out of the gutter. Yeah, I know what you're thinking with a title like this, but... jeez... Have a little faith. It's completely, mostly, sorta innocent. Nothing over the top. It's as raunchy as the rest of the series. So, not so much so.

Thanks for your reviews, as always. I'm glad you're enjoying this little blurb as the summer goes on. I'm having a ton of fun writing this. So, if you're having half as much fun reading it, then I'm a happy camper.

**A/N 2 – **After my little hiatus, I'm forcing myself to work extra hours at the office. So, updates may be slightly slow for a short time while I'm making an attempt at fixing my spontaneous absence from work. I'll do my best to keep writing as inspiration hits me and update as often as possible. Hopefully I can remedy it pretty quickly and get back to my boring life.

* * *

X-Rated

* * *

"What's up, Cath?" Warrick knocked lightly on Catherine's office doorjamb.

Catherine looked up from the folder she was holding, peering over her glasses at him. "Sara was here a few minutes ago to inform me that our presence is requested as part of a case she and Grissom are working on."

Warrick walked fully into the office at that point. Glancing over his shoulder, he checked the hallway for any eavesdroppers. "Just the fact that they're working together lately is a little weird, don't you think?"

Catherine removed her glasses. "I've long ago stopped trying to analyze those two. Hot, cold. Content, angry. Who knows what mood they'll be in any given day."

"Yeah. Just a week ago, Grissom was short with her and she just sloughed it off like it was nothin'. Couplea days ago, she was in Grissom's face over him not sharing a piece of evidence. Yesterday, they didn't even say a word to each other. Today, they're on a case together like nothing happened."

"I wouldn't worry too much about it, 'Rick. It's the same confusing thing day after day. We'll only wear ourselves out trying to figure them out." She shut the folder in front of her and sighed heavily. "Let's go see what we can do for them."

Sara, perched on the edge of the conference table in the layout room, was frowning at Grissom when the other pair walked in. Grissom, sitting in one of the chairs just off to Sara's side, was frowning equally as distastefully up at her. With the toe of her shoe, Sara kicked the arm of Grissom's chair. Warrick and Catherine just watched as the duo turned to face the doorway upon their entrance.

"What'd you guys need?" Warrick asked, testing the air for any remaining tension for fear of what had caused them both to be frowning at each other when he and Catherine had made their appearance.

"We found a ton of videos at the victims' house. We were hoping to throw half of the stack at you guys and ask for your assistance to get through them faster, but we watched a few, and..." Sara stood from the table, landing on her feet with a thud.

"Watching those videos will not change our investigation," Grissom remarked, narrowing his eyes at Sara.

"Grissom..." Sara turned to face him again. "We have no idea what's on all of them. You gave up after the first one." She crossed her arms defiantly.

"We saw enough pieces of the first five to feel strongly that they all contain the same information. Same writing, same tapes, same location. We've tested enough for now." Grissom was tense, and his voice presented the evidence of his irritation.

"What were you looking for on the tapes?" Catherine ventured.

"The victims had security cameras at strategic places on the outside of the house. We were hoping that might give us some idea of who came and went at the house around their TOD," Sara explained.

"Sounds reasonable. So, what's the problem? Wrong timeframe?" Catherine continued to question them.

"Wrong genre, actually," Grissom answered enigmatically.

Catherine placed her hands on her hips. "Would you care to elaborate?"

"Seems they were more into taping their personal escapades and accomplishments rather than taping the people that came to visit them," Sara replied with a sigh.

"Ah..." Warrick found himself smirking. "Using a camera in the bedroom to capture the momentous occasions for posterity, huh?"

"Oh, no... What we saw had nothing to do with the bedroom. Everything was captured with the actually surveillance cameras in their natural habitats," Sara added.

"Exhibitionists? So, I still don't get the problem. So there's some racy footage. That shouldn't be an obstacle. Move on to the rest of the videos," Catherine stated, shaking her head lightly.

"_Someone_ refuses to watch any more of them." Sara turned to glare at him again.

"I don't _refuse_ to watch them. I said there was no use to watch them. We can chase the other evidence for leads and come back to these if nothing pans out." Grissom's voice held a note of finality. He was clearly through with the conversation even if the other CSIs were not. With the intent to leave if that might end the discussion, he stood from his chair, scooting it noisily behind him.

"They were stored in a cabinet in the living room. There could be some of the surveillance tapes in there as well. We need to look at them, and you know it," Sara directed her words at Grissom.

"Sara, no one keeps security camera footage and their personal videos in the same cabinet, let alone all mixed in together on the same shelf. Let it go." His voice held the note of warning that Sara often ignored.

"Funny. Where do you keep your porn collection, Grissom?" Sara spat the question at him, her voice light, but holding a hint of iciness.

Grissom pursed his lips as he sighed heavily at her. Catherine and Warrick watched on with rapt interest. Apparently this conversation had been escalating since before they had walked into the layout room. It would explain the tension in the air and why they had been frowning with disinterest at each other. Sara had crossed the line with her question, but Grissom only seemed annoyed and not angry.

"Sara." Grissom was using his condescending boss tone he reserved to keep people in check. If she expected to get a livid response out of him, he was going to work at not allowing it to happen. He ignored her question. "We've watched enough to know what is most likely on the rest. There are only twenty tapes in total. If we need to, then we'll come back to them. For now, this discussion is closed."

"God, you're acting like I want to watch them for personal pleasure. Hell, I'd rather watch a forensic documentary. They're evidence, Grissom," Sara huffed. "C'mon, Warrick. Let's go check out what they have in Trace." She grabbed the dazed Warrick by the arm and dragged him from the room.

Catherine and Grissom were left standing alone in the conference room. Catherine raised her eyebrows at him. His only response was a glare in her general direction. He sat back down at the table and began looking through his notes. Catherine continued to eye him questioningly as he pretended to be interested in the file.

"It's strange to see you so restrained about evidence," Catherine stated casually, gauging Grissom's body language for a response. "Normally it's the weirdest or unusual things that seem to intrigue you."

Grissom grunted. "Yes, well, I'm not about to sit here and peruse through someone else's sexual escapades when there's other evidence to scrutinize."

"After all the cases we've worked and the deviant behavior we've seen, I just can't believe you'd have a problem with watching those videos," Catherine pressed, a knowing smile gracing her lips.

Grissom's mouth hung slightly open in annoyance as he sighed heavily. "If I thought they were probative to the investigation, I'd—"

Holding up her hands in defense, Catherine cut him off. "Don't get all defensive on me. I could care less that you're embarrassed to watch them."

* * *

With all four seated back in the conference room, the tension was palpable. Nothing else was pointing them in the right direction. The evidence had led them to a dead end, and all that was left were the videos. Neither Warrick nor Catherine was willing to voice their concerns or thoughts on the subject after the last conversation on the matter.

Never once before had Grissom allowed the evidence to affect him in such an adverse manner. He was embarrassed, but the bigger question in their minds was why. They were not sure if it was because he was protection of the victims, the embarrassment of seeing the videos in mixed company, or seeing it in front of one CSI in particular.

"Okay... So, videos. There's nothing left," Sara stated firmly, picking one of them up off of the table and turning towards the VCR and portable television. "Maybe there's someone lurking that caught them in the act and didn't like it."

"Sara, you're going back to the house and see what else you can find. We may have missed something." Grissom stood from his chair and began walking from the room as if the matter was closed.

"That's it? You're still refusing to watch the videos? This is lunacy, Grissom, and you know it." Sara turned to face him, fire in her eyes. "We didn't miss anything. You're avoiding the issue and the evidence we have available now."

Grissom turned only his head to regard Sara. "No, Warrick and Catherine are going to watch the videos. That's what we called them for in the first place." With that said, he continued his retreat from the room.

"Better take one of those videos home... you're going to need it," Sara whispered under her breath towards Grissom's retreating back. She walked out after him, but purposefully turned down the opposite way in the hallway from Grissom.

Once alone in the room, Warrick turned to Catherine. "Did she just say what I think she said?"

Catherine's mouth worked open and shut a few times, but no sound escaped. She was utterly at a loss to explain anything that had happened in the last few hours. She questioned her own sanity as she had watched the scene unfold and compared it to the last few months. She shook her head to dislodge her thoughts. Grissom was still enigmatic, and Sara was still temperamental. Maybe some things were just not what they seemed.

* * *

To Be Continued...


	15. Little Confession

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N –** First, let me apologize for taking so long to update. It's been a horrendous week. Second, while I have you as a captive audience, I'll mention that I hate, hate, hate – detest, even – Tropical Storm Ernesto, network adapters, Windows OS, my internet/cable/telephone provider, my laptop, my kitten, and finally myself. I do like the cute associate that I got to meet on my trip to CompUSA to buy a new Ethernet adapter, though.

Let's just say I now know how to rip a laptop down to the bare bones and put it back together – and, yes, it still works like a champ... better than it did when I took it apart. My PC still is on the fritz, so that's next on my list.

* * *

Little Confession

* * *

Seated at the breakroom table, Sara, Catherine, and Greg were reviewing their case notes, enjoying their first free moment since the shift had begun. Each was deep in thought mulling over the most beneficial way to spend their time until the lab results came back on their evidence. It had proven to be a slam dunk case, however, the more they pressed, the harder it was to fathom.

"She loved the guy to death?" Greg asked suspiciously.

"Looks, that way, Greggo," Sara responded quietly.

"Sucks to be going through life, everything falling in line, and _bam_," he smacked his hand on the table, "You're dead."

"Love at first sight leads to murder," Catherine added with a sad smile.

"I'm not so sure I believe it was love at first sight," Sara rationalized, "Maybe lust, but love wouldn't have led to this."

"You don't believe in love at first sight, Sara?" Greg inquired.

"She's not a romantic, Greg," Catherine answered.

"There's nothing romantic about murder. The woman is obviously a whacko. The guy didn't feel the same as she did, so she killed him," Sara replied dryly.

"C'mon... You've never looked into a guy's eyes for the first time and thought he was the one?" Greg gave her a lopsided grin.

"Maybe I have, but that's not the point." Sara quirked an eyebrow in thought. "I wouldn't stick a knife in his eye when he didn't reciprocate my feelings."

"That's obvious," Greg snorted. As both of Sara's eyebrows rose and a death glare ensued, Greg backpedaled to explain himself. "I mean, you wouldn't be sitting here with us because you'd be in jail."

"Maybe it's just because they never found the bodies... but I can give you a private tour of the hallowed grounds later if you'd like." A devilish grin lit up Sara's face.

"You know, the first time I saw Eddie," Catherine reminisced, "I was taken with him. I wouldn't exactly say it was love, but it was something. I just had a feeling we'd be married. Wasn't the perfect marriage by any means, but my initial reaction was still right – an instant connection."

Grissom walked into the breakroom to get a cup of coffee before heading back to his paperwork. Not intending to overhear the discussion, but catching the tale end of Catherine's story intrigued him. So, he dallied a little more than he usually would have in pouring his dark brew and settling back into his desolate corner of the world.

"I've gotten that feeling a couple times, but look at me." Greg chuckled. "I'm still single. I know... who could pass this up, right?" he said, gesturing towards himself with a flourish of his hands from head to toe as if he was on display. "There was one girl I met at a concert a couple of years ago, and we clicked right away. Everything was perfect for a while, and then she bugged out on me. Chicks just can't handle what we do for a living." Realizing again that he had said the wrong thing, he added, "Present company excluded, of course."

Catherine gave Greg a blank stare while Sara calmly stated, "I think I'd stray from calling either me or Catherine a chick, Greg, but it's just a guess."

"So, what about you, Sara?" Greg turned the discussion around to her. Devotedly waiting on her story, he leaned forward, placing both elbows on the table and leaning his head in his hands.

"Oh!" Sara said in mock-excited agitation, glancing at her watch and rising from her seat, "Look what time it is... I've got to go check on a case."

"You're a bad liar. We're all on the same case. You sit down and tell us your account," Catherine ordered good-naturedly.

Sara heaved an exaggerated sigh and plopped herself back down in her chair. Staring each of them down, she pondered her words. Grissom was directly behind her, and he was hovering at the coffee pot. She knew it never took him that long to get coffee, and she wished he would get it and leave.

"Okay, if you must know..." she started, dropping her hands on her lap in defeat. "It was at a college seminar. We were in the same lecture, and our eyes met when I walked in the door."

All three other people in the room with her waited for her to elaborate, but Catherine and Greg were a little more obvious about it, eyeing her eagerly. When no more words came out, Greg prodded her excitedly with waggling eyebrows. "So... what happened?"

'Nothing." She scowled deeply. "He went his way, and I went mine."

"You're being purposefully vague. We want juicy details. Give," Greg demanded.

"What?" Sara asked exasperatedly, bringing her hands up to the table top. Shifting uncomfortably in her seat, she answered, "What do you want to know? He was tall, dark, and handsome, had eyes to die for and a smile that sent me over the edge, not to mention smart and witty... It just wasn't in the cards at the time, so we became friends." Where her tone had started out huffy, she ended on a rather introspective and lethargic note. Absented-mindedly, she toyed with the corner of the case file, studying it curiously.

"Sounds like you got your heart broken," Catherine observed.

"Gimme his number, Sar. I'll take care of him for you," Greg offered jokingly.

"Thanks, Greg, but really not necessary. I took care of it myself, and he more than made up for it a few years later. Let's just say that he was very apologetic," she replied enigmatically with a devious smile.

A small, stifled chuckle was heard from Grissom's side of the room, which quickly ended in a short coughing streak as coffee slipped down his throat. After sputtering for a moment, he realized that the noise reminded them that he was in the room. He knew it was going to be exponentially more difficult for him to get out of the situation unscathed.

Grissom turned and tried to slip from the room, but their expectant gazes stopped him in his tracks. "What? I was choking on a sip of hot coffee."

"That's not what we're looking at you for," Catherine retorted condescendingly.

"Nice to know who your friends are. I could've drowned in coffee, and you'd probably not care."

"We're waiting, Grissom," Greg urged him, still leaning into his hands for support.

"I wasn't aware that I was part of your discussion." He tried again to slip from the room.

"Ah, come on, Grissom. You just heard us regale each other with our tales of love at first sight. Time for you to bare your soul," Sara coaxed, leaning back in her chair expectantly and earning herself a surprised glance from Catherine.

Pursing his lips in thought, he eyed her cautiously, soaking in the light in her eyes as she looked at him. For a moment, he remembered her walking into that lecture hall and stopping abruptly not more than a few inches from him when he was on his way out the door to get his notes from his car. The air between them had crackled immediately, and neither had known what to say. So, instead they mumbled something incoherent and ducked away. He quickly averted his gaze to look at Greg and Catherine as well before his thoughts betrayed him.

Catherine found this was one discussion that she would play more of a role in as an almost silent observer. She scrutinized their body language, making an attempt to discern if there was something no one was willing or ready to mention. Suspicions were one thing, but she desired proof before she allowed herself the indulgence of truly believing it was possible.

She watched Grissom work his mouth, trying to form words while he stared at some random spot on the wall behind her head. He was obviously having trouble finding the words, but his actions did nothing to indicate he was entirely uncomfortable. She averted her eyes to hazard a look at Sara. Catherine could see that the brunette's confidence in pressing Grissom on the issue was underscored by an uneasy curiosity.

"I wouldn't so much as say it was just love at first sight, but more of a love at each sighting. Eyes that held such depth and could speak volumes captivated me, but being drawn in was nothing like being held perpetually there."

"So..." Greg pressed Grissom as he had Sara earlier in the conversation. "What happened in the end?"

Grissom began to walk out of the door. The trio inside assumed he was just going to leave them like that. They were proven wrong seconds later when he turned his head over his shoulder and spoke enigmatically, "No one said it was over."

Once Grissom was out of the room and safely tucked in his office, Sara turned to the other two. She plastered the most stunned, yet subdued, expression on her face that she could muster. "That was certainly more than I ever expected that man to say."

"You're telling me," Greg said with a face revealing his mental question mark. "You guys think he has someone on the side? All this time, and he's been hiding it from us?" He turned to look pointedly at Catherine, while Sara mimicked the inquisitive stare.

"Don't look at me," she defended herself with raised hands of surrender. "I honestly don't know the man as well as everyone thinks I do, obviously. He's never once told me he was ever in love with anyone. I like the guy, but I communicate better with my teenage daughter than I do him."

"What's the world coming to when Grissom can be in a relationship while we're all on the outs?" Greg shook his head for added emphasis.

Sara stood from her seat again. "I'm going to go check on our Tox results." Patting Greg on the shoulder as she left, she added, "Don't dwell on it too much, Greg. He could've been talking about his bugs for all we know. He spends more time with them than anything else."

Greg let out a heavy sigh. "Well, that certainly would make me feel a whole lot better. I just don't think my mind could handle knowing that Grissom is going home every day to romance someone when I haven't been on a date in months."

"Don't count the man out thinking he's more romantically challenged than you. He's a private guy, but just because he doesn't show it here doesn't mean that he can't love someone," Catherine chided him.

Greg turned his head slowly in his hands. With a raised eyebrow, Greg ventured cautiously, "You know, Cath, if I didn't know better, I'd think you were either involved with him or knew who was."

She scoffed at his remark. "No. Don't go there, Greg. If I knew, I wouldn't know. It's his place to say or not say. The one thing I will admit to is that each time I have any inkling, something makes me think otherwise."

* * *

To Be Continued...


	16. Taking Who?

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N – **Readers & Reviewers, thanks for hanging, love ya, mean it! I'm ever so grateful you're all still here with me and apparently still enjoying these snippets. Quite a few more rolling around in my head. So, I can't say for sure exactly when the last one will make its appearance.

* * *

Taking Who?

* * *

"Hey, 'Rick, who's Grissom taking with him to the seminar?" Nick asked, looking over the top of his magazine to check in the hallway for any eavesdroppers.

Warrick continued to measure the coffee grounds to start a pot of coffee before their shift began, striving for nonchalance. "You mean who's he getting to go along to do his grunt work?"

Nick looked over at his friend questioningly. A stunned moment passed for him before he realized what Warrick was implying. "Isn't it kinda nice to be asked by the boss to do something like that? Like he trusts us or something?"

"Hey, man, there's a lot more important things for me to be worried about or jealous over. Who he takes to this seminar is not one of them. I'm not about to go and spend a week of quality time as his secretary," Warrick replied cynically, glancing over his shoulder.

"What d'ya mean?"

"Bro, wake up. He's going to be the one lecturing at a seminar. Who do ya think is going to be running his errands and making his notes?" Warrick chuckled as he filled the pot with water.

"Grissom's not like that. He does his own research." Nick went back to perusing his magazine. "Anyway, it'd get one of us out of here for a week," he admitted dreamily.

"Trust me," Warrick said, "It'd be no vacation. He might even go alone. He is Grissom after all."

"Catherine, Sara, Greg, me, and you..." Nick reasoned, taking stock of the people on shift. "He's taken Catherine before, but she's the most senior and would likely take over the shift, and she's got Lindsey. Greg's too new and annoys him too much. Sara's... Well, Sara and he haven't been on speaking terms since last week. So, me and you, 'Rick. Who is it?"

Warrick turned the coffee pot on. As it started to drip, he heaved a small sigh and plopped into a chair beside Nick to read over his shoulder. "Let it go, Nick. If he asks me, which he _won't_, I'll tell him to take you. Problem solved."

"So, who's your money on?" Nick pressed.

Warrick relented in the hopes that Nick would finally give up. "He'll ask for volunteers." He paused a moment in thought and added, "And, if a certain brunette offers to go, which after the tension this past week, I doubt she will, he'll find a way out of it and go alone."

* * *

Sitting in the layout room, Sara was absorbed running a magnifying glass over a piece of her victim's clothing. She never saw or heard Nick approaching. From the doorway, he watched her for a few minutes before making his presence known.

"Hey, Sar. Got a minute?" he asked from the doorway.

A small smile tugging at her lips, she glanced at her watch and then up at him over the top of her goggles. "I've got exactly three. Go."

Nick chuckled nervously for a second. "Well, I was wondering what you know about who Grissom's going to take with him to the seminar."

Sara's breath hitched briefly in her throat, as her movements of scrutinizing the clothing came to a standstill. She looked earnestly up at Nick. "If you want to go, I'd suggest you make that known to Grissom. He can't read your mind."

"It's not so much that I want to go exactly... Do you want to go?" He looked sheepishly down at his feet.

Sara took a deep breath. The last thing she wanted to do was lie to Nick, but there was obviously a thin line she was going to walk. The truth was eventually going to come out, but she preferred it later rather than sooner. Quite possibly it would give her a chance to get more of a handle on how to spin the entire event.

"Whether I want or don't want to go is immaterial," she replied evenly, "If you want to go, tell him. He can't schedule people for these events if he doesn't know they have an interest."

Nick walked further into the room to avoid prying eyes or ears of the lab. He pulled out a chair on the opposite side of the table. "So, did you tell him you want to go?"

She fought her mind for a moment to not just respond with a lie that could or would get her in trouble. She would just have to try to avert his attention. "Nick, like I said, it's immaterial. You need to ask for your own peace of mind and your own goals. Anyway, it's a convention, not a seminar. Bunch of people talking about advances and techniques in their labs while other people are trying to sell them new equipment. It'll be boring."

"Don't avoid the question," Nick ordered, winking to offset the partially harsh tone.

Sara sighed lightly, pulling her thoughts together. Setting the magnifying glass off to the side of the garment, she replied, "No, Nick, I never specifically asked Grissom to go to the conference." Looking nervously up into his eyes, she continued, "Seriously, if you want to go, ask him. He's the one who can send anyone he wants."

"I don't want to make any waves with anyone, I guess." Nick grimaced. "It's just..."

"Nick, it's not a competition. Whoever goes, goes. No hurt feelings. It's a presentation, not a Nobel Peace Prize." She glanced down at her watch. "Now, get out of here. We're over your three-minute allowance. I'm going to start charging for advice. So, unless you would like to start coughing up money, I'm interested in getting back to work."

* * *

Nearing the end of shift, Sara, Nick, and Warrick were seated in the breakroom commiserating over a few cups of coffee. The entire week had been filled with a lack of good cases to keep them occupied. As Ecklie walked into the room, the conversation ground to an abrupt halt.

"Good morning," he offered to the trio in greeting.

"Morning, Ecklie," Sara responded evenly, while the other two sat in silence.

"I was hoping to run into you this morning, Sidle." Ecklie turned after filling his coffee cup to the brim, eyeing her skeptically.

"I was wondering what we did to deserve your presence so early in the morning," Sara replied coolly.

He placed a sheet of paper on the table in front of her. "Grissom was kind enough to leave the paperwork on my desk at the end of your shift yesterday. I made the arrangements and wanted to give this to you in person. This is the conference itinerary."

Sara visibly sunk further into her chair as she looked over the paper that Ecklie had passed her way. She refused to look up and make eye contact with anyone else in the room. It was obvious that Nick and Warrick were boring holes into her head with their stunned stares. The later she had anticipated had come a lot sooner than she had wanted.

"Thanks. I, uh... wow, that was fast," she stammered.

"Considering Grissom and paperwork, yes," he hissed while sipping out of his cup. "I'll have some cards prepared to take with you in the event they would like to get in touch with us in reference to purchasing any of their supplies." He took another sip in thought when Sara offered no response. "I do... appreciate what you're doing. I know that I never would've gotten Gil to make this step. You'll let me know when you have someone to go with you."

"Uh, yeah... about that..." With nervous eyes, Sara looked up at Ecklie finally. "Because of the nature of the convention... having forensic presentations and product demonstrations... I think it'd be best if someone who knew the purchasing mandates came along. It would be more productive... especially since I'll be busy on the other end with the presentation. If they were familiar with both ends of the spectrum it'd be a bonus."

Ecklie looked at her hard for a moment, his beady eyes trying to figure her out. Although, clearly uncomfortable talking with Sara, he was presenting his politician façade. He gave her a grimace of a smile. "Just let me know whoever you choose. I honestly don't care as long as we're represented well with the presentation, and you bring back any of the samples you receive." His tone held the hint of irritation as the conversation grew on.

"I'm taking Grissom," Sara blurted quietly.

The subdued gasp from the three men in the room was expected, yet still surprised her. The small bombshell was enough to both literally and figuratively shellshock anyone within earshot. Sara averted her gaze to stare out the glassed walls. Without even looking at any of them, she could imagine that they all had the same slack-jawed expression.

"I already asked him," she explained. "He agreed, but also said to take some time to think it over and see if there was someone else. I don't need to consider it. I think it'd be best if he went."

Ecklie regained his composure and pressed his lips into a fine line. "I never took you as someone who would admit they needed a babysitter," he said sarcastically.

Sara's gaze snapped back to him. For a moment her temper flared at the icy comment, but she reined it in knowing that was exactly the response Ecklie was looking for. She slumped more comfortably back in her chair and crossed her arms offensively in front of her chest, her gaze gliding appraisingly over the weasel in front of her.

"I am doing what I feel is best for the lab. If that means that I take a supervisor who knows forensics, the purchasing requirements, and the needs of the lab, then I thought you'd agree. I would hate to miss a potential deal because no one with me was able to make that decision... But, if you find that it's unsatisfactory, I'm sure I can find someone else to take along," she said levelly, raising an eyebrow in challenge.

"It's your choice," he said bitterly, slinking out of the room before anything further was said.

Sara rose from her seat as well. Picking up the paper from the table, Sara looked at her coworkers. "Well, he certainly takes the fun out of everything."

After she was gone, Nick and Warrick turned towards each other. Both staring at the other with a blank stare, Warrick shrugged one shoulder.

"What just happened there?" Nick asked, shaking his head.

"We're getting a reprieve from Grissom and Sara for a week," Warrick answered.

"Sara's going to the conference?" the Texan asked incredulously.

"Sara's _presenting_ at the conference."

"Sara's taking Grissom?"

"Of her own free will," Warrick summarized.

"Grissom accepted?"

Warrick patted his friend on the shoulder. "Get over it, man. I wouldn't want to be alone with either of them for a week. They'll be in their own uncertain company."

* * *

To Be Continued...


	17. Odorous Parallel

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N –** Woo... Life is so unfair. It's horribly malicious of me to begrudge going to work, but I do so enjoy my summers. Alas, another one is coming to an end, and the worst part is that I hate having to share my writing time with interviewing, teaching, organizing, setting up our offices, and networking the computers. Guess I do have to make some money at some point, otherwise I wouldn't have internet, and my writing would be in vain. Updates will be coming a little slower as evident lately, but never fear that they'll continue.

* * *

Odorous Parallel

* * *

"Hey, Grissom," David said as the CSI approached him.

"Hi, David. What do you know about our vic?" Grissom hunkered down beside the assistant coroner.

Looking at the thermometer sticking out of the body's abdomen, he answered, "Looks like she's been dead about eight hours. Ligature marks on the wrists, but she was unbound when we got here. Lividity is fixed, so she hasn't been moved. There are abrasions around the neck indicating possible strangulation." He lifted one of the victim's eyelids. "No petechial hemorrhaging, though."

"Thanks. Can you leave her for a little while before you take her back to the morgue?"

"Uh, sure. Shouldn't be a problem." David looked sideways at Grissom. "Did you, uh... did you... never mind."

"What, David?" Grissom asked with an edge of impatience in his voice.

"It's nothing really... I was just wondering if you ate before you came to work tonight." He looked away sheepishly, realizing it really was none of his business, and it would most likely embarrass Grissom – or himself.

"I did. Is it probative to this particular investigation?" He quirked an eyebrow and frowned at the younger man.

"No... No... It's not important at all. I just..." He stood abruptly and began backing away from the body and Grissom.

Grissom shook his head and tried to forget the conversation, or what could loosely be classified a conversation. David had always been a little skittish around him, even after all the years they had worked together. Maybe it was not just him who made David nervous, and it was just his nature. However, Grissom still found himself perplexed by what had been said, or more importantly, the lack thereof.

"What's up, Gris?" Sara asked, concern filling her voice, stopping by his side. She had seen the mixed emotions playing across Grissom's face as he was processing the scene.

He frowned at her before a puzzled look took its place. "David just asked me if I ate before I came to work. Out of context, it just sounded odd."

"Maybe he's concerned about you." She scanned the area around the body with her flashlight, feigning an attempt at nonchalance.

"Maybe he need not be," he replied quietly, playing along with the scan of the area, not looking at Sara.

"He's a really sweet guy... odd, but sweet," she replied, looking over at Grissom. When she saw the raised eyebrow and practiced scowl cross his face, Sara pursed her lips into a frown to hide the grin threatening to mark her features. "What? He is."

Sara turned abruptly around and found another piece of ground to cover that was not as close to Grissom. The last thing she wanted or needed was to tempt either of them to drop their professional focus at a crime scene. In spite of her situation, Sara found herself smirking at everything, but mostly at Grissom's obsessive behavior.

"Okay, David," Grissom called out, "You can take the body away now."

"Uh, okay..." David replied hesitantly, averting his eyes purposefully.

"David, I had lasagna. Does that answer the unasked question?"

David just sidestepped Grissom nervously and made his way to the body.

* * *

"Okay, Albert, give me some good news," Grissom said as a greeting as he strode into the morgue.

The coroner looked up from the autopsy table and grinned at his visitor. "Good morning to you, too, Gil."

"Ah, yes, good morning... So?" he said impatiently, stopping his progress into the room once he was standing beside Dr. Robbins.

"The diner I go to each evening on my way in here has started carrying a very tasty pastry. I could bring one in for you tomorrow if you're interested... unless you've already found out about them."

Grissom offered a wry smile in response.

"I suppose you were referring to the body on the table then?" Doc Robbins joked.

"What was your first clue?" he replied dryly.

"Okay, right to business, then... Victim has ligature marks on the wrists, and I've sent the sticky substance to Trace already. We can both safely assume what that was." He pointed to the bruises formed around her neck. "She was strangled, but it's not what killed her." Pulling the sheet down her body, the coroner revealed massive amounts of bruising on her chest. "Her attacker crushed her chest before she even got a chance to stop breathing. Massive amounts of trauma to the internal organs. Rib through the heart was fatal."

"Looks like he used a knee to restrain her while he was trying to strangle her, and his body weight was too much," Grissom theorized.

"Crushed almost every rib she had," Doc Robbins added. He looked sideways at Grissom curiously, sniffing the air lightly.

"Anything else?"

"The usual: fingernail scrapings, fingerprints to hopefully ID the poor girl, combed her hair, clothes are bagged, etc. etc." He looked Grissom up and down a few times as he was speaking.

"Something wrong, Al?" Grissom asked suspiciously, curious as to why the coroner was paying attention to his attire.

"No... No, I just had a sudden craving for another pastry for some reason. It's almost as if I can smell it in here, even above the death on the table."

Grissom narrowed his eyes and gave him a sideways glance. "You've spent far too much time in the morgue. Thanks for your help."

David was pushing a gurney in as Grissom was walking out. They two met at the door and exchanged a quizzical glance as Grissom held the door to let the younger man cross through first. The assistant coroner watched Grissom's back as he exited through the swinging doors.

"Yes, David, I noticed it, too," Dr. Robbins said to the younger man.

"I thought it was my mind earlier at the scene. It's not like Grissom... at all," he answered sheepishly, hanging his head. "It's..."

"It's oddly familiar," he finished David's thought.

David looked up at Doc Robbins with a lopsided grin as he pushed the gurney over against the wall. The coroner went back to looking at the body laid out on the table. They both remained quiet as they went back to work, seemingly forgetting the earlier oddity. Sara came bustling through the doors like a woman on a time-sensitive mission.

"Guys..." she rambled without a real greeting as she moved up next to Doc Robbins. "I was wondering what you know about our Jane Doe."

"Hello, to you, too, Sara," the coroner said, nearly mimicking his response to Grissom earlier. His face held the hint of humor as she glanced at Sara

Sara smiled shyly at the older man and replied, "Sorry, Doc. Hello... So, what do we know about our vic?"

She gave him a confused glance as Robbins chuckled at the continued similarity of the situation. As they stood beside each other, he smelled the same sweet aroma from when Grissom was in the room. Robbins gave her a measuring look at he relayed the same information to her that he had already given to Grissom.

"Thanks, Doc."

"You know, I already talked to Grissom about it. You didn't bump into him in the hallway, did you?"

"Um, no. I haven't seen him in a few hours." She furrowed her brow and frowned slightly, trying to figure out the significance of the question. "I was trying to find him before I came in here, but I figured I'd run into him at some point."

"Are you wearing perfume?" David asked seemingly out of the blue as he walked up to the pair.

Sara's eyes flickered towards Robbins, but she knew the question had to be directed at her. "No. Much like most other people in the lab, I find it distracting, and it interferes with the job," she replied, turning to face the younger of the two men.

* * *

"You rang?" Sara asked with a flirty smile as she leaned against his doorjamb. She glanced at her watch, noting that shift was set to end in thirty minutes.

"I did." Grissom picked up a shopping bag from the floor and plopped it on his desk. "Would you please drop this by your apartment when you stop by there today?"

"Sure, but I am curious..." She stepped closer and began rummaging in the plastic bag.

"I ran out of shampoo this evening, and I had to use yours," he offered as an explanation.

"Okay... but, why two?" Sara raised a curious eyebrow when she saw that there were two of the same exact bottles of shampoo nestled in the bag.

"I intend to not run out on a work night again. I smell like an apple and cinnamon danish. People may not notice if it's you, but with me, it's different. I think I would get less strange looks if I smelled like a three-week-old decomp."

"That's an appealing thought." Sara wrinkled her nose in disgust and grabbed the bag from his desk. Suddenly, Sara stopped as she reached the doorway.

"What?" Grissom found himself asking.

"It's... uh, nothing." Sara shook her head to dislodge the strange sense of unease floating over her.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	18. Zoned Out

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N 1 – **Guys, sorry this is so late. Apparently I was afflicted with some strange bout of flu that took me out of commission for the past ten days (I felt like I was going nuts from boredom). A temperature hovering just above 100, that I was fighting with alternating heavy overdoses of ibuprofen and acetaminophen to keep that low, didn't allow me much brain matter to finish thinking or typing this thing up. Things should look up from here... I hope.

**A/N 2 –** Thanks for hanging in here with me, and also thanks for your reviews. You're all the greatest.

* * *

Zoned Out

* * *

Sara sat at the table, her hands on her lap and her head bowed as if she was in prayer. To someone else, it may have looked like she was asleep, but anyone who knew Sara knew she would not sleep in such an obvious position in the Trace Lab, especially after the rumor about Hodges had passed around the entire building.

She raised her head and rubbed the back of her neck. Rolling her head from side to side and flexing the muscles in her shoulders, Sara resembled the epitome of stress related sleep deprivation. Her eyes were on the article of clothing splayed out on the table in front of her, but her mind was wandering. Something so unusual was bound to be spotted by someone... eventually.

Hodges walked through the doorway and eyed her disapprovingly. "Catching a nap on company time, Sidle?"

Her eyes, but not the rest of her head, snapped over to his figure. "No, Hodges, I'll leave that for you to perfect. I actually work when I'm sitting in the lab," she accused pointedly.

Hodges' eyes bulged out as he actually looked stricken at her comment. "I—I—"

"Oh, save it. Don't deny it. Everyone knows. You think I really care?" Her reserved voice held a hint of humor, though still was distant.

"Well, I..."

"Look, what do you know about the trace we found inside the gun barrel?" Sara asked tiredly, obviously not in the mood for small talk or his feeble excuses.

Reaching over to grab a report off of the desk, Hodges took on a more confident air. "Mud."

Sara shook her head slightly, holding her displeasure at bay for that moment. "I know that there was mud in the barrel. I was the one that collected it from its position stuck in the ground. What I _want_ to know about is the yellow substance that was mixed in with the mud."

"You're not the only one who has turned in evidence to be analyzed. I'm working on it as it comes in."

"I gave you that hours ago. If you've had time to analyze the mud, why don't you have the rest of the results for me?"

"I am only one man. I can only work as fast as the equipment. You'll get your results when I get them," Hodges intoned condescendingly.

"You know what? Forget it," Sara huffed, rising from the rolling chair. "Page Grissom with the results. I've got more important matters to handle than to listen to your useless drivel."

Sara strode from the office pointedly and rounded the corner towards Ballistics. Grissom was not going to be happy with being paged with the results from the tests, but she really was in no mood for Hodges. He was most likely going to pull her aside afterwards for neglecting her duties as primary on their case, but she could handle that more than she could Hodges' weasel-like antics.

"Bobby..." Sara hoisted herself up on the counter in Ballistics as the tech swiveled around in his chair. "Tell me you've got some good news for me," Sara said with a hopeful smile.

"I can't tell you anything until I have the weapon," Bobby answered with a blank stare.

"What do you mean when you 'have the weapon'?" Sara quirked an eyebrow.

"I mean that I don't have the gun yet. You told me that Hodges was going to get the trace out of it before it came to me, but I don't have it yet." He swiveled back around in his chair to look into the microscope, resuming his position of when Sara had walked into the room. "Even after I get it, it's going to take me some time to clean it from what you said earlier about the mud in the barrel. I'll—" He abruptly cut himself off, getting an empty feeling. Glancing over his shoulder, he realized he was in the room alone.

Sara glared into the Trace Lab as she walked by. Turning her head she looked through the DNA Lab's glass walls and spotted the one person she needed to find. Waving her hand in a clipped manner, she caught his attention and wagged a finger to beckon him to her side of the lab. Standing just past the Trace Lab, Sara stopped her progress and waited for Grissom to reach her.

"What's wrong?" he asked in greeting, tucking the folder he had been reading under his arm.

"Hodges," she answered him with distaste and rolled her eyes. She went for the obvious answer rather than what was really bothering her. "He copped an attitude when I asked him about the results from the gun."

"That's nothing new, Sara. What's so bad about today?" Grissom could see the strain on her face, wondering if it was just the case or whether there was something else bothering her.

Sara crossed her arms defensively in front of herself and spoke in a calm monotone. "I just left Ballistics, and Bobby said that Hodges hasn't given him the weapon yet. He should've taken the trace from the barrel and handed it off. Bobby is going to need time to clean it before it can be test fired for comparison."

Grissom breathed a heavy sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. He racked his mind searching for a reason for so little animation in her actions. The case was not one of the worst they had seen, she had been sleeping and eating more recently, and she had been in an excellent mood when they had entered the building the six hours before. The reserved way she was speaking of the matter was beginning to bother him.

"I'll talk to Hodges and—" Grissom started but was quickly cut off.

"Hey, boss," Hodges greeted Grissom

He turned to face the technician while Sara averted her eyes to stare into the DNA Lab blankly. Both CSIs remained quiet as Hodges waited for someone to acknowledge his presence with something more than a glance. Sara cringed and frowned, holding her temper back. She had been in a great mood at the start of shift, but overhearing a conversation from around the water cooler had set her off. Apparently, her and Grissom's love lives, although thankfully not pieced together directly, were a concept thought fit for discussion by the lab's support staff at the very least.

After no verbal communication was forthcoming, Hodges continued, "I was just looking for you. I wanted to give you the results as soon as they came out of the printer." He shoved a piece of paper in Grissom's general direction.

"And... You're giving this to me rather than Sara, because...? She is the primary." Grissom reminded him while taking the paper.

Arms still crossed, Sara tightened her grip and waited. When Hodges had previously not ratted her out by telling her comment about paging Grissom, Sara felt a little relieved at his incessant ass-kissing. But, leave it to Grissom to ask the question that would bring it all out in the open. She impatiently waited for the accusation from Hodges, and then the ultimate reprimand from Grissom.

"She told me to page you with the results. Paging you when you were a few feet out the door seemed unnecessary. Therefore, I thought that also would apply to telling you in person since you were out here," Hodges rambled in confession and looked pointedly at Sara, "She didn't seem to want much conversation with me this morning."

Grissom blinked at him. "David, while never convenient, there are some days that people find it merely practical rather than delightful to have a conversation with you."

Hodges found himself glancing back and forth between the two CSIs standing in front of him. He honestly had expected Sara to get slightly in trouble with telling him to page Grissom with the results. He remembered how he had been chastised before by Grissom for stepping over the primary to give Grissom the results himself. Instead, he found himself shocked by the ease with which the supervisor had just put him down and had not said one word to his subordinate.

Grissom cupped Sara's elbow and guided her around in front of him and pointed them in the direction away from Ballistics. Taking the long way would give him and Sara a few moments to potentially discuss what was really bothering her. He turned his head to speak over his shoulder. "I would suggest that you get the gun that was placed in evidence to Ballistics before we get there. I expect there to be no more hindrances on this case."

Hodges stared after them as they walked slowly down the hallway and around the corner. Wasting no time, his arm slinked under the counter to grab the evidence bag containing the weapon and sped to Ballistics. Hastily, he shoved it in front of Bobby and watched while the other tech signed the appropriate places for the Chain of Evidence to remain intact.

Grissom and Sara arrived moments later, Sara looking a little less stressed. Hodges realized he was snared in a trap with the CSIs blocking the only exit in the room. After signing the papers and checking the weapon out, Bobby looked at the face of each person in the room, feeling the tension weighing heavily.

"Bobby, that's a high priority considering we've lost a few hours on it already. I know you have other cases to work, but..." Sara started appealing to him.

"I'll get right on it, Sara," Bobby said sympathetically as Hodges skirted past the CSIs to slide sideways out the door.

"He just made both of your jobs a little harder. If you want me to do something..." Grissom left the statement hanging in the air testing the waters of the other two in the room. Gently, he placed his hand on Sara's shoulder to offer a little reassurance. "Bobby, if it results in overtime, I'll sign off on it no questions asked. Sara," Grissom said, turning his head towards the brunette, if you need anything, I'll be in my office."

After Grissom was gone, Bobby turned his head to glance at Sara. Still standing in the doorway only leaning lightly on the doorjamb, she had a faraway look in her eye. For a moment, he regarded her warily, wondering what was going through her mind. "You okay, Sara? I'll get this processed before you know it."

"No. No," Sara replied distractedly, shaking her head slightly to emphasize her words. "I'm not at all worried about that. I know you'll have it done in record time."

He watched her close her eyes and breathe a little sigh through pursed lips before responding. "Don't waste your energy letting Hodges bother you... He's..." Bobby trailed off, unable to think of a polite word to describe the Trace technician.

"Yeah, an ass. It's not him either." Sara reached up and placed her own hand on her shoulder over the spot that Grissom's hand had been. Staring unfocused at a random point on the wall behind Bobby, Sara found herself sighing again. "I've just got something on my mind."

The overheard conversation earlier had not specifically bothered Sara, but she knew in her heart that it would bother Grissom. They had tried to be so careful until they knew it was time to tell other people about themselves. On the way to Ballistics, she had tried to placate his fears telling Grissom it was nothing major and that she would talk to him about it later. He had appeared somewhat appeased by that small step, and they had each managed a small but reluctant smile before entering the door and finding Hodges with Bobby.

Bobby watched as a nervous expression crossed Sara's face as she rubbed her shoulder absently. A small smirk found its way to his lips as he looked away at the microscope. Almost embarrassed at watching her while she was unaware, Bobby resorted to work rather than mentioning her behavior or mood any further. "I'll let you know as soon as I've got a comparison and results."

"Thanks." With an appreciative smile, Sara turned and left the room. Dropping her hand from her shoulder, Sara headed the long way around the lab for Grissom's office.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	19. Days Off

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N – **Thanks for all the well wishes, guys. I appreciate it. I'm feeling a ton better after I got to play bartender with liquid cold medicines and drug dealer with the pill form. It's the legal way to get high anyway.

* * *

Days Off

* * *

"Man, Sar, you're maxed out on OT again?" From the opposite side of the table, Nick looked over at her slumped form. "Already?" he asked incredulously, as if it made no sense at all that she would ever do such a thing.

Leaning back in her chair, Sara mock-glared at him over the top of her steaming coffee cup. "You say that like I've never done this before. And, I'm not so sure I'd say 'already.' We've only got five days left this month. That's certainly not a record for me."

Catherine looked over at the table from the couch, a devious smile forming on her lips. "So, you're stuck in the lab doing all of our dirty work for a week, then?"

"You gonna appeal to Grissom?" Warrick, sitting beside Catherine on the sofa, asked, studying her.

Sara grimaced for show. "I've tried reasoning with him in the past. He has no control over it. Unless something big happens, I'm stuck in our glass prison." She shrugged one shoulder in thought. "And, truthfully, even if something huge does happen and you'd need me in the field, I'm still not sure I'd get out of here."

"You're just going to give up? No fight?" Nick's eyes were saucers.

His disbelief at the mere thought of Sara, the queen of confrontation, backing off of a potential argument was enough to question whether the world had stopped spinning. Sara had been acting a little skittish lately, but had drowned herself in work and cases like usual. It had almost seemed, at times, that it was a fervent hope to push herself to the point of utter exhaustion, but she had appeared contented at it. She was a woman on a mission, but no one had tried to stop her because she had not showed signs of it taxing her out.

Catherine sat in her own state of shock. In all the time she had known Sara, there had never been a time she had willingly just sat on the sidelines. The last time Catherine remembered Sara giving up so easily on the lab work, Sara had asked her to talk to Grissom for her. The girl had looked crushed at the time, but now she looked... well, content and non-confrontational.

Catherine's gaze caught Nick's eye. A silent understanding passed between them at what they believed was their biggest piece of evidence. It was their revelation – the final piece of the puzzle that cinched their guesses and sealed their coworkers' fates. If Sara was not going to confront Grissom about it, then they must have already talked.

"I never said I was giving up..." She smiled enigmatically. "I'm picking my battles... Biding my time. There's nothing I can really do about it ri—"

Greg burst into the room. "Sara, is it true? Grissom just pulled you off our case?" His voice was thick with confusion. "What happened?"

Every set of eyes was focused upon the spiky-haired youngster who, quite possibly, could have just started World War III. At the very least, it was predicted to be the next wave of the Grissom-Sara Cold War that threatened them from time to time. A stalemate had been called recently, or so everyone thought – cause unknown, but the team was happy nonetheless. Greg, for his part, seemed oblivious to the stares taking place as he waved his file around in what would have been a comical gesture, had he not busted into the room with his news.

Sara dropped her hands on the table beside her magazine. Luckily, just moments ago, she had placed her mug of coffee on the table. Her steely gaze was trained on Greg, but it flickered to contemplative for a moment as she pondered something. Just as quickly as it had come, the thoughtful look was gone, and her gaze snapped through the glass wall of the breakroom as the object of her animosity ambled down the hall.

If looks could have killed him, Grissom would have fallen over without hesitation. As it was, the rest of the crew could almost see the daggers Sara was casting with her eyes. Grissom appeared unfazed as he strolled into the breakroom with the intention of getting a cup of coffee. The room was silent, save the clink of the mugs as Grissom set about preparing to pour a cup of the steaming sludge, waiting on the moment Sara snapped.

"Grissom," Sara stated rather calmly. Her flat voice was what scared everyone the most.

Grissom continued in his search for his coffee cup without turning around to speak to her directly. "Sara," he replied just as calmly.

"Dare I ask what prompted you to remove me from the case Greg and I were working?" Sara crossed her arms tightly across her chest.

Finding the right cup, Grissom plopped it on the counter and began to pour the coffee. "You've maxed out on overtime for the month. You need to take a break." He was blunt as usual.

"Still not understanding how this constituted me being pulled from the case. I can still work in the lab." The pitch in her voice became slightly agitated. "There is no reason."

"Sara," Grissom said in his placating, condescending voice and turned to face her, "I have my reasons. You need to accept that. You've worked as much as you can this month, so there's no reason to stress yourself out more."

"Stress myself out? Are you even listening to yourself? This is my case, and I want to know why I was pulled off of it. And, I want to know _now_." Her voice had raised itself to an angry monotone as she stared him down. Anyone else putting that string of words together would have sounded whiny, but the edge in Sara's voice negated any thought of that.

Grissom looked genuinely hurt for some reason. "I'm your supervisor, and I told you I have reasons, Sara. I'm not asking you to understand them, but I'm asking you to follow my directions."

She looked at him indignantly, her brows meeting angrily. "You self-righteous—"

"Sara!" Grissom spouted, stopping her words. "I think you need to go home now. Take the last few days of the month to relax."

"I'm not leaving until I have an answer," she stated triumphantly, pulling her arms tighter in their embrace. "I was in the middle of an active investigation."

"You're leaving if I have to take you out of here myself. And, I don't want to see you back in this lab until the night of the first. Understood?" He turned away from her in an effort to end the confrontation.

"Call me if you need me," Sara huffed to no one in particular. Giving one last glare at Grissom's profile, she walked defiantly out of the room.

Nick and Catherine again looked at each other, both shaking their heads. What they had just a few minutes previously suspected was shot down in a whirlwind of fiery words. They then looked to the other members of the team sharing looks of sympathy towards the brunette storming out of the building. Everyone turned their eyes towards Grissom in an accusing manner.

"Don't anyone call her to get her into this lab," Grissom warned. "Look, don't look at me like that. She's capable to handle the work, but... well..." Grissom looked down at his hands as if they held the answers. "Sometimes everyone needs a break, and this is the perfect opportunity for her to do so."

"She's going to go insane without work," Warrick summed up everyone's thoughts.

"Two days in a row is enough to drive her insane. Five days is like giving her a lethal injection," Greg added. "And now, I have to work my case alone. This sucks." He had the good sense to look sheepish when he made the last part of his statement.

"You've got Nick. He doesn't resemble Sara in any way, but you have a vivid imagination, Greg." One corner of Grissom's lips curled into a sneering smirk. "Use it."

* * *

"Catherine," Grissom called out to her in the hallway when he passed her at the end of shift, "take good care of the guys. I'll see you Wednesday night."

Catherine grabbed his arm and spun him to face her. "What do you mean 'take care of the guys?'"

Grissom squinted at her for a moment. "My dear Catherine, please, don't tell me that you're taking up my bad habits. I gave you a memo a month ago."

"A memo?" she asked incredulously, placing her hands on her hips. "You never _read_ memos."

"I don't have to read it if I write it. I'm going on vacation. There's a seminar being held in Reno on some insects native to Australia, and I've been dying to see it. Eupoecila australasiae." Grissom offered a small contemplative smile. "Beautiful beetle specimen. Planned this as soon as I got the invitation."

"Um... okay. So, you're telling me that you gave Sara this time off when you already knew you were going out of town?"

Grissom breathed a small sigh. "I don't think this is new to you Catherine. Sara was maxed out on overtime. She would have been of no use to you. She needs the time off. She's pushing herself too hard."

"She could've worked in the lab processing our evidence. But, right now, that's beside the point, Gil." Catherine narrowed her gaze at him. "Since when have you made this realization about her work habits? That's nothing new either."

"You're right, Catherine. But, I'm trying to look out for everyone and what they need, whether they know they need it or not. I'd have done the same to any of the rest of you, if any of you followed her work habits."

She raised her eyebrows quizzically for a moment. "Well, have a good time with your bugs. I'll hold down the fort."

He gave her a small smile of appreciation. "I know you will."

* * *

Grissom turned the knob of the door to his townhouse and was greeted with the soft sounds of Ani DiFranco. A peaceful Sara was seated on the couch, feet propped up on the coffee table, reading the latest issue of _The Forensic Examiner_. He took a moment to enjoy the domestic feel of the moment and wondered how he had lived so many years of his life without it.

"Hey." Sara looked up to see him watching her. A broad smile blossomed on her face. "You finally made it home. I was beginning to wonder if you forgot about me."

Grissom walked over to the couch and pressed a light kiss onto her forehead. "Wrapped a few things up and left just before the shift was over." He dropped his briefcase onto the floor beside the couch and settled into the seat beside her.

Sara dropped her left hand onto his knee and squeezed a little. "Did anyone suspect anything?"

"I don't think so. Your tantrum was enough to throw anyone off the trail." Grissom leaned back into the couch, the leather squeaking under his movements.

"I wasn't completely acting. I was a little hurt when you pulled me from the case. I wanted to see it through to the end or at least the end of the shift."

"I know you did," Grissom said soothingly. "The opportunity presented itself, and I couldn't pass it up. Telling you that at the end of the shift when I was going on vacation would've been harder. Everyone thinks you despise me. Frankly, it's perfect."

"Mm. It was hard to max out on the overtime this month. If we want to do this again, you're going to have to give me harder cases. I was running out of reasons to stay." She continued to read the magazine until another thought struck her. "Oh, hey, what are you going to do if they ask you about the seminar in Reno?"

Grissom never opened his eyes. "No one, with the exception of you, even cares what bug I might see while I'm there. The benefit of being eccentric."

"So..." Sara tossed the magazine at the coffee table with a resounding thud, and turned herself on the couch to face Grissom. "When do you want to go?"

"After I pack," he replied dejectedly, as if the effort would suck the life out of him.

"We're packed," Sara answered him. At his questioning look, she explained, "I had to do something after you threw me out of the lab. I want to enjoy every single moment of these five days alone with you."

* * *

"Where's Grissom?" Warrick asked to no one in particular, although the other three CSIs in the locker room turned their attention to him.

"Yeah, I haven't seen him in a while... since his altercation with Sara, actually," Nick added.

Greg decided to stay out of it after they all yelled at him about breaking the news to Sara about Grissom pulling her off the case. He should have known better, but he had been thinking she knew what had happened. How was he to know that Grissom was just being Grissom and took matters into his own hands? Greg was still thanking his lucky stars that Sara had not decided to kill the messenger.

Catherine, staring into her locker, answered, "He's gone already, and he's on vacation for the next five days at some conference in Reno."

"A conference in Reno?" Nick asked skeptically.

"Some bug thing. He's been planning it for a month. I forgot the post-it note he put on my computer until he reminded me today." She shrugged on her jacket.

"And, it's just our unfortunate luck that he kicked Sara out of the lab at the same time?" Warrick seemed just as unconvinced as Nick.

Catherine shut her locker with a soft click and looked at the three boys making up the crew. "She couldn't go in the field anyway. We could have used her in the lab, but he was right. She maxed out and needed to take a break. There is no reason to eat up all of our funds with her just running our evidence around. We'll be fine."

"Sara is going to be so pissed when she finds out Grissom was out of the lab and she didn't get to reap the benefits," Greg finally spoke.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	20. Inadvertent Collisions

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N – **As always... thanks for reading, and I hope you're enjoying. Also, as usual, thank you to my reviewers who make my day with their words of encouragement.

* * *

Inadvertent Collisions

* * *

Nick took a large bite of his Double-Double Animal® Style and stared off out the window of his car. It had been an amazingly stressful shift, and he had wanted nothing more than to leave the glass confines of the lab and find something relaxing to do. Passing In-N-Out, he had had an epiphany. He silently thanked a deity that it was Vegas, and they served food like that twenty-four hours a day.

Now, pulling into the parking lot of the bank and positioning himself into the ATM line was not how he had wanted to enjoy the feast, but he wanted to pick up a little cash before shift that night. If he left it until he was leaving his apartment for work, he felt assured he would likely forget. He owed Greg and Sara breakfast, and, even though it was Vegas, he knew that not all places took credit or debit cards. There were a few other errands to run, and he decided to take care of them all in one morning.

Using the hand not occupied with the humongous burger, he tapped his fingers on the steering wheel absently, Nick started people watching as he waited. Hefting the burger up again, the paper nearly obliterating his face, he almost missed the man striding out the side door of the bank towards his car.

Blinking, Nick recognized his supervisor, but could somehow not believe his eyes. He knew for a fact that Grissom did not use the same bank he did. In fact, Grissom had once sounded like he would sooner donate his butterfly collection to Goodwill than ever bank there. It was something about not liking the 'big bank' ego and them squashing the little guys... Something that sounded amazingly like a Sara-ism as well.

Pulling forward a car length, Nick watched as Grissom grabbed something from his car and walked back towards the building. Impulse struck him as he rolled down the window while Grissom was reaching out for the door.

"Hey, Grissom!" he shouted the fifty feet across the parking lot.

Grissom turned and squinted in the morning glare to see where he was being called from. Taking a last, quick glance inside the door, Grissom knew he was stuck with acknowledging the young man's greeting. It would be rude to do nothing more than offer a wave from his side of the parking lot. He did wave, however, as he pivoted and began ambling towards Nick's SUV.

Stopping alongside the driver's side door, Grissom greeted the CSI. "Hi, Nick."

"Fancy meeting you here. I thought you hated this bank," Nick accused of his boss.

Grissom fidgeted with the paperwork and checkbook in his hands. "This will serve its purpose for what I need. Different bank, different account. Keeps the finances in easy order."

"Starting a CD or somthin'?" Nick guessed, seriously wondering what Grissom was doing at the bank more so than his financial status.

"Just another account," Grissom answered cryptically, following along with Nick's SUV as he pulled forward another car length when the line moved in front of him. "Bigger banks offer more resources and options."

"Yeah, they have reasonable rates on savings accounts, too... I didn't mean to hold you up, I was just surprised to run into you here. I was running a few errands before I went home for the day. Getting a little sunlight, ya know."

"Yes, I understand that all too well," Grissom responded automatically. "I had better head back inside before they think I've deserted them. I'll see you at shift tonight."

"Sure. Later, Gris. Good luck with the account."

* * *

"That'll be $125.81 plus tax," the little woman behind the counter said while hitting the buttons on the cash register. "So, a grand total of $135.56," she added as she nodded at another customer who walked through the door of Arrow Cleaners.

Sara looked up with a shocked face for a moment. She glanced over at the rack full of dry cleaned clothing beside the counter. Realizing most of it was Grissom's, she sighed, "Men."

"I resemble that remark," a familiar voice joked from behind her.

Sara spun around to come face to face with Nick. "Hey, Nicky. Coincidence running into you here."

"Don't I know it. I had a few errands to run today. Figured I'd do it all in one day."

The cashier became a little impatient waiting on Sara to pay her and gave an agitated tap of her fingers on the counter. Sara turned to regard the woman for a moment before fishing the checkbook out of her purse.

"I hope you'll accept a starter check. I won't get my check card for a few days, and my other account doesn't have near enough money for this," Sara said, filling out the top portion of the check, hesitating a moment before discreetly adding her address and the joint account holder's name.

The lady nodded. "I'll accept it from you. You've been in here for a few years."

Sara willed herself into acting nonchalant. The excessive amount of clothing, obviously mostly masculine, was going to be hard to get out the door and into her car without being noticed. At least, she reminded herself, she had brought her own car and sent Grissom on to the store to start the shopping before she met up with him.

"Hey, Sar, I thought you hated that bank," Nick said, recognizing the logo near the memo portion of the check when Sara handed it to the clerk. Luckily, Sara had the foresight to remember Nick's attention to detail and covered the address portion with her fingers.

"I do, but I wanted a change. They gave me free stuff to start an account, and I was bored at the time." It was not a total lie, but Sara felt herself cringe nonetheless. She did get a free duffle bag, and while she had been bored with the whole account process, it was certainly not boredom that had forced her to go to the bank that morning after work. She offered a wry smirk and tried to hastily change the subject. "So, what brings you here? You actually own something that needs dry cleaned?"

"I own a suit or two, thank you," he retorted good-humoredly. "I gotta get them out before my next court date, or I won't be making such a good impression."

Sara took her receipt from the cashier. After stowing it away in her pocket, she grabbed a few articles of clothing from the rack and hung them up on the other side. It was her fervent hope that if the clothing in the middle were disguised by her clothing hanging in plain sight on the ends, maybe Nick would not ask too many questions. She felt fortunate in the respect that Nick had not mentioned the 'men' comment from the beginning of the conversation.

"Let me help you with those, Sara. That's an awful lot of clothing for you to have at the cleaners." He handed the woman behind the counter his slip and gave his name so she would be getting his things while he was helping Sara.

"Might as well clean it all at once. Saves on having to make multiple trips," she covered for herself as Nick grabbed all the hangers off of the rack.

Settled into her car, the dry cleaning lying neatly on the seat beside her, and Nick back inside the building, Sara finally took a long, cleansing breath. It had been an easy and conscious choice to decide to keep their relationship a secret, and it had not been something they had not been careful protecting. She knew in her heart that it would be the simple things that would eventually trip them up. Sara realized she and Grissom were going to have to have a talk about being a little more discreet.

* * *

"So, what do you want for supper tonight?" he asked quietly, leaning on the handle of his cart and reading intently through a list of ingredients.

Sara turned her head to look at Grissom's profile. The scientist in him was scrutinizing each and every can of soup. Sara smiled, realizing it was in his nature to give one hundred percent of himself to something when he put his mind to it, and he was definitely doing that over the whole vegetarian thing. Even she, being the vegetarian in the household, had never been this overly concerned about what she ate – not to this extent.

"I just want a bath, a good magazine article, and a nap. It's been a long day. I could care less about food right now. Are you hungry for anything in particular?"

"Hmm... I would like a steak, but that means you would still have to pick something," he replied, still scanning the health information on the label.

"I'll get some fish. It'll go with whatever sides we have."

"Fish actually sounds good, now that you mention it. Forget the steak, and grab enough fish for both of us."

"Okay, but I'll get a steak for another night." Sara started off down the aisle with her own cart. It had not been intentional to get her own cart, but as she had been walking through the store looking for Grissom, Sara had come across a few items she needed to pick up. It had been an instant decision to get a cart of her own, at least until she found him.

Grissom looked up, scrunching his eyebrows in distaste, stopping her with his words when she was only a few steps away. "You don't have to get the steak, Sara. I know you don't—"

"It's okay. I'm not eating the thing. I offered to do it, you didn't order me." She turned to face him fully. "You love steak, I love you. It's not like I'm going to wither away if I touch the shrink wrap around it. You're more than making up for it by making sure I have the finest in vegetarian selections the store has to offer." She gave him a small smile and patted his shoulder. "Be back in a minute."

Six years without eating a steak did not make her any less a steak connoisseur. She knew a good steak when she saw one, and this particular Albertsons Sav-On did have the finest selections of fresh foods she had seen, but she would readily admit to rarely looking at the fresh meat. Grabbing one in particular that she thought would be just the right size for Grissom, she dropped it beside the fish in the cart without another thought. Then, she started off in search of the makings of a salad, asparagus, and red potatoes. Just because Grissom had always been the one cooking had never meant she would not choose what he was going to fix.

She turned the corner heading to the produce section and ran into the one person who she would never have expected to see in that particular grocery store. Startled, Nick looked up from the tomatoes and right into Sara's eyes. She blinked and smiled to cover her initial shock at running into him again.

"We need to stop meeting like this, or people are going to start talking," she said, enlarging her smile. Suddenly thankful for having her own cart, Sara gripped the handle a little tighter.

"I'm starting to wonder myself..." He looked down into the cart. "Steak?" he asked disbelievingly. "You're eating steak?"

"Uh... no... It's, um... for a friend," she stammered, suddenly at a loss for words. Being friends with CSIs was a downfall at times like these, especially when they noticed almost everything that would appear out of place.

"A 'friend', huh?" Nick asked with a sly smile. "No wonder you said no when I tried to set you up with that guy from Traffic," he added, chuckling a little.

Grissom rounded the corner, catching a glimpse of Sara's slender form before he saw Nick standing in front of her. "Hey... I—" Seeing Nick caused Grissom to change his entire thought process. "This is unusual. I don't believe we see each other this much at the lab." He wore a quirky smile as he looked at each of the two in front of him.

"Hey, Grissom." Nick noticed Grissom was pushing a cart of his own and took a look inside of it. Seeing nothing obviously out of the ordinary, he almost outwardly sighed. "Sara's buying a steak," Nick said, attempting to bait Grissom.

Grissom peeked over and looked into the main part of Sara's cart. "So it would seem," he stated rather blandly.

Sara furrowed her eyebrows and glared at the two men. "Why is everyone so interested in what I'm buying? I... I have to go now." She started pushing her cart away. "See you two later."

Nick shrugged at Grissom as the two men watched her go and pick over some of the vegetables. With another shrug, he pushed his cart past Grissom and made his way around the corner to go up an aisle. Grissom found himself still watching Sara with a small smirk turning up one corner of his lips.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	21. Gossip

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N 1 –** **Sky M, Ming**, this is for you guys. You both know why. Your desperation and hopefulness, respectfully, was enough to make me go back over my mental story outline and make a few adjustments... Okay, this resembles nothing of the original chapter. Hope it lives up to what you've all come to expect. Thanks for supporting me through this wonderful charade.

**gsr4ever**, thank you. You also know why. I think I either would've lost my temper or laughed hysterically until I fractured a rib had it not been for your shoulder to cry on. You were definitely in the right place at the right time. I owe you one.

I want to thank everyone for their continued support. Your words, dedication, and encouragement have made this a much more manageable and pleasurable process. It may sound trite to say it all the time, but I seriously mean it. You're the best! I can't thank you enough.

**A/N 2 – **I prepared a long tirade about certain things that have been said in reference to the story, but it's not fair to put that in here. What I will say is this: if you're not satisfied with this, then don't read it. If there's something you think could be improved, then tell me. I do appreciate constructive criticism. This is intended to be a comedy of sorts illustrating the many different ways the relationship is viewed or speculated upon. There is no timeline established, as stated with Chapter 1. That suggests that it could be anything ranging in weeks to years – your choice. This isn't an Oh-my-God-Sara-and-Grissom-just-got-busted Fic.

Now, on with the show...

* * *

Gossip

* * *

"Hey, Sara, what do you think about this?" Greg asked, sliding a few pictures across the table towards her.

Reading the file folder intently, Sara barely registered Greg's question. She frowned at the pictures as they entered her peripheral vision and Greg's hand drew away from the top of them. Reaching out, Sara pulled them closer without a word.

After a few minutes of scrutinizing them, Sara looked questioningly at Greg. "Um, what am I supposed to be seeing? It's a dead woman slumped over on a park bench." Looking back down at the pictures, she added, "I took the pictures. What do you see?"

"I see the park. Doesn't it look like fun for a quiet stroll?" He tried his best to look innocent.

"Uh... Sure... If parks are you thing," Sara replied, frowning slightly at the unusual turn of events in the conversation.

"Doesn't it look peaceful? Like a nice day for a nature hike..." he prodded her.

"Greg," Sara intoned quietly, "it's a picture of a dead woman. There's nothing even remotely peaceful about it."

"Well, I'm pretending she's asleep... disregarding the blood and obvious hole in her temple, of course." He pointed emphatically towards one picture in particular. "There's a beautiful sunrise behind her, and I'm pretty sure if there was audio that there'd be some birds chirping or something. Think of all the possibilities."

"That's morbid." Sara squinted her eyes and pursed her lips at him in mild disgust.

"Take away the dead body for a minute." He reclined back in his chair and lacing his fingers behind his head. "Wouldn't you want to take a walk with a special someone on a day like that if you had the chance?"

"We're at work, trying to find someone who murdered this poor woman, and you're fantasizing about taking walks in parks," Sara said, shaking her head. "Stay on task, Greggo."

Sara slid the pictures back across the table towards her partner for the night. They turned back to work for a few minutes, Sara pretending to read the case file, and Greg studiously looking over the pictures of evidence. The quiet fell over them as Sara recalled the last walk in the park she had been on. She had left work at a reasonable hour, but unable to put her mind at ease from the grueling shift, she had stopped by the park near her apartment complex.

After an hour of drifting back and forth on the swing and still no more settled, she decided to leave, only to almost literally run into her neighbor who lived three doors down the hall. The guy had been making pathetic passes and feeble attempts at flirting with her constantly over the years she had lived in the building. Although he was a year older than her, had a good sense of humor, and was relatively good-looking, Sara never saw him as more than a neighbor. Every time she turned around, he was there trying to entice her with his sense of humor or some small off-handed comment about going out.

Before he walked her back into her building, they talked for a half of an hour about insignificant happenings like the rain they were in dire need of, the new paint at the diner on the corner, the newest maintenance man in the building, and how annoying tourists were when you had to live in a town that they frequent. Sara, although loathe to admit it to anyone, was happy to have had the distraction that morning. Grissom had to stay late for a staff meeting, and she was restless without him.

"Sandy from HR had a few interesting things to say..." Greg started, pulling Sara out of her reverie. He continued once he saw Sara's attention was back on him. "She was talking to Judy about her sister's new apartment. Couple weeks ago while on break they were talking about you and your boyfriend."

Sara looked up into Greg's eyes, frantically searching his face to see just exactly what he knew. Trying to look impassive, but failing, she at least tried not to look stricken. The thought that Greg quite possibly could be the first to approach her was not the most comforting scenario. She was not sure Greg knew what the word discretion meant, let alone ever heard of it. Forget even thinking that the lab personnel also knew.

"So, anyway..." Greg said dramatically as he raised his eyebrows. "Since you don't seem to want to tell me on your own, I have to resort to eavesdropping around the water cooler to get the juicy details of your life." He paused for a moment and added, "So, when were you going to tell us?"

Sara averted her eyes back to the report in her hands. "Tell you what?" If there was one thing she knew she would not do, it was give him any more information than he already knew. Sara felt certain that if she could get intricate details of a crime from an uncooperative witness or suspect, she could certainly get Greg to crack.

"About your boyfriend. I want details, Sidle. How long has this been going on? How serious is this? You've been sneaking around on us, and that's so unfair," he accused her. "I tell you about the girls I go out with."

"Just because you feel the need to tell me all of your intricate affairs doesn't mean I want to live vicariously through your life, and I certainly don't want people doing that with mine. We value our privacy."

"We're your friends. You should be able to share these things with us." He placed his arms on the table and leaned towards her. "So, what's his name? What's he do? Where does he work?"

Sara breathed a heavy sigh of relief which appeared to Greg as a sigh of surrender. She realized at that moment that Greg had overheard the same conversation she had caught in passing, as he appeared to not know the guy. "That's what this whole park thing was about." She offered him a small smile. "He's not my boyfriend, Greg. He's my neighbor."

Greg sighed overdramatically, and leaned back in his chair again. "You want to play hardball, huh? Will you tell me if I promise not to tell anyone else?"

"Seriously. I'm not dating him," she stated firmly. "Can we change the subject, please?"

"Sure," he acquiesced, apparently having missed Sara's use of the word 'we' rather than 'I' in her earlier statement. "So, how was your forced vacation?"

While not entirely happy with still having to tell Greg all about herself, Sara smiled pleasantly while thinking over her five days with Grissom at a cabin near Lake Mead. It had been utterly peaceful and quiet. She had always known that once she got inside the world of Grissom that she would be pleasantly surprised. He was quite a different man when he was at home, not having to hide from his coworkers, and even more so when the potential to bump into any of them was not hanging over their heads. Dinner at a romantic restaurant, moonlit walks, picnics in the woods, relaxing and reading together.

"It was good. I did a lot of relaxing. Getting kicked out of the lab was a downside, but I made the best out of the situation," she answered him vaguely.

"You do know," Greg said hesitantly, "that Grissom was out at the same time, right?"

Sara looked at him earnestly and settled herself more comfortably in her chair. "So I gathered when I got back into the lab. A bug seminar out of town I heard."

"I have it on good authority that he didn't go too far out of town," Greg told her, conspiratorially lowering his voice to barely above a whisper and leaning forward again. "Judy says that Sandy says that Becky in Payroll saw him at Lake Mead during that time. And, she also said that Paul in the Mailroom can confirm the story. He saw Grissom at a convenience store in that same area. Talk is that he was picking up supplies to make breakfast, and it didn't look like he was only feeding one person."

"This is interesting, because? You know, your voyeurism in this matter is beginning to disturb me." Sara found herself not having to feign annoyance. She knew, however, that her reasoning was different from the way Greg would perceive it.

"Because he lied to us about where he was going. _Grissom. Lied._ Doesn't that pique your interest in the least?" Greg's scoffed as if that was the obvious answer.

Grissom had never lied to them. He avoided and mislead, but he never lied. In fact, he had immediately had an epiphany when he received the invitation to the seminar. He had walked into the bathroom, thrusting the newsletter into the shower as Sara was getting ready for work one night. _We're going to spend some time away from our houses, and this is the perfect excuse_, he had said. Sara rolled her eyes and snorted at the time, but after he explained the plan, she had been enthusiastic.

Grissom placed a vacation memo on Catherine's desk and a vacation request on Ecklie's, and then he let the issue drop before suspicion was raised. Sara worked as many hours as she could on the cases Grissom directed her way. Cautious planning for an entire month of dividing the cases to make sure Sara had enough work to cause the hours they needed. Of course, Sara had actually worked the hours diligently, as it was never their intention or in their nature to steal company time.

Grissom said he would tell her to take the time off after it was 'discovered' that she had maxed out her overtime. He had meticulously thought about his choice of words, ensuring that he was using misdirection rather than a lie when he told them where he was going. All the work had paid off, and they enjoyed their five days of peaceful bliss alone at the cabin as their much-deserved reward.

Sara scoffed good-humoredly at her young friend. "Do you... actually work here or just sit around and get paid to gossip all night? I feel like I should have my hair in curlers and sitting under a blow dryer in a beauty parlor."

He waved his hand dismissively. "I am a man of many talents, Ms. Sidle. You're just seeing some of them for the first time... Not that I haven't offered before, but..." He finished with a suggestive, yet playful wink alongside his overly bright smile.

Sara rolled her eyes and looked out through the glass wall behind Greg's shoulder. She felt somewhat comforted that Greg was not pushing too hard with the information he had. The secret was safe for the meantime, but she still felt slightly unsettled. Hearing about her personal life told in such disjointed detail was rather disturbing. These people knowing those small bits of information, although still not piecing them together was like them having a window into her privacy.

"Oh!" Greg exclaimed suddenly, his eagerness to tell her the scoop forcing his words to run together. "I also overheard Becky telling Judy that Mark in Accounting saw Grissom at the Barnes & Noble at the mall."

Sara nodded. She remembered hearing that particular piece of information in the hallway as well, and then quickly rushing off before hearing about her own life voyeuristically any longer. "So?" she said devoid of emotion.

"It's poetry, Sara. C'mon." He waggled his eyebrows. "And a cookbook."

Pursing her lips to keep the smirk from forming, Sara felt herself stifling a giggle. Grissom had not been at the mall buying poetry. He had not even gone to the mall for himself. He may have asked a clerk about a book of poetry or a cookbook, but he was actually there with a list of Sara's preferred reading to get her some new books before their mini-vacation. Tess Gerritsen, James Patterson, Sidney Sheldon, Tom Clancy, Stephen J. Cannell, and Max Allan Collins were certainly not in that genre.

"He quotes poetry all the time. He's Grissom. Buying a book of poetry is not something I would say is a very damning characteristic, especially for him."

"You're not the least bit interested in why Grissom'd want a book of poetry?"

"Not really." Sara looked earnestly at him. "Do you, uh, think you could get back to work?"

"We're working while we're talking," Greg countered dismissively.

"I believe you're doing more talking than working, Greg," a distinctly annoyed voice said from behind him.

Greg peeked over his shoulder to make the visual confirmation. He hung his head at the sound of Grissom's authoritative voice. Sara took the moment to smirk at Grissom, her eyes dancing around his face with delight. He looked back at her and winked.

"How do you do that?" Greg asked, his voice sullen and muffled by his hands cradling his face.

Grissom ignored the question. "While your interest in my personal choices in literature is intriguing, I do believe your time would be better served spending your intellectual capacity on cataloguing the evidence of the case you're supposedly working than divulging facts from people's personal lives."

"Yeah, Greg," Sara added, clearly amused. "Use your head, not your mouth."

"That includes you too, Sara," Grissom said darkly.

"I—I—I wasn't gossiping. I was working," she pleaded the excuse to Grissom's back as he walked away.

"Oooohhh..." Greg said animatedly as he took in Sara's shocked face and dropped jaw. "I can't wait to tell the Gossip Club that you just got in trouble. This is going to be so sweet that they'll be forced to buy me lunch."

"You never learn your lessons the first time, do you?" She shook her head ruefully. "Anyway, how will that get you lunch?"

"I can't tell all my secrets, but I will say that they all thought he'd be a lot nicer after vacation if he was seeing someone."

"Greg, you do realize that he yelled at you, too?" Sara asked, raising an eyebrow, uncertain as to why he would only tell them about her.

"Sure." He gave her a wide grin. "But, I can't tell them about me or they'll know that he overheard the gossip about him. Grissom hearing the rumors directly is a major violation of the rules." He rifled around on the table for a few minutes organizing the pictures. Almost too quiet to hear, he added, "Or, I could tell them all about how I stopped over with a six pack and chips only to find your apartment was vacant during your time off."

Sara blinked in disbelief.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	22. Quality Time

_Disclaimer:_ Please refer to Chapter one. I'm just not creative enough to think of something new for each chapter...

* * *

**A/N – **Readers & Reviewers! I swear... I'd buy you guys a round of drinks if we were all in the same town. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

* * *

Quality Time

* * *

"Hey." Sara smiled, leaning against the doorjamb leading into Grissom's office.

"Hey." Grissom smiled back.

"I need to run some errands. I'll be home as soon as I can after that. Should only be about thirty or forty-five minutes."

"I'll start breakfast so it's ready when you get there."

Greg walked past in the hallway, briefly glancing into the office and then at Sara on his way out. Grissom looked momentarily away from Sara to watch him walk by. Sara's eyes were focused on Grissom, watching his every move, waiting until he looked back at her. When Grissom's eyes locked back on Sara, they shared a flirtatious look, one not fitting for standing in the doorway of his office in the CSI Lab. Catherine walked up behind Sara and sidled past her into the office, startling her slightly.

"Night, Grissom. See you tomorrow," Sara said, her voice a little sad.

"Good night, Sara." His voice was deliberately even with a practiced distance.

Sara turned to go, giving Catherine a quick glance. "Night, Cath."

"G'night, Sara." Catherine called out to Sara when she was a few steps away, "Hey. You're on call tonight, right?"

"Yes, but unless Vegas is burning down, you better let me have it off," Sara replied over her shoulder.

Catherine looked at her for a moment, a tired smile playing on her lips. She turned to Grissom, handing him a folder. "It's been a long couple'a weeks, huh?"

Grissom gave her a blank stare, but his voice gave away his exhaustion. "Yes, it has been – for all of us. I'm actually looking forward to my night off. I'm quite sure you'll enjoy yours tomorrow."

Unmoving from her spot in front of his desk, Catherine gave him a once over. After so many years of doing it, checking to make sure he was okay felt like one of her job duties. "What are your plans for your night off?"

Squinting his eyes, he looked quite perturbed at the conversation. "I don't have any plans, Catherine. I'm probably just going to read a book or do a crossword puzzle... or watch TV. It's called relaxing... You should try it."

"Way to live your life, Gil. You need to get out more," Catherine replied disdainfully.

* * *

_( knock ) ( knock )_

"What'd you do? Forget your key?" From the kitchen, Grissom shouted to the person at the door, assuming it was Sara.

Grissom dried his hands on the dishtowel and walked over to the door. The phone took that same moment to ring. With the flick of his fingers, he unlocked the door and turned the knob on the door at the same time. Beginning to walk away, he pulled the door slightly open to allow her entrance. He stopped upon seeing who was on the other side of the door.

"Catherine." Grissom stood slack-jawed on front of her.

"Expecting someone else?" A sly smile lit up her lips. Not missing a beat, she asked, "A key? Who's supposed to have their key to get in?"

He chewed his words for a moment. "You're practically the only person that comes here. I'm surprised you haven't conned me out of a key, yet. Eventually, when you noticed the door was unlocked, you'd have let yourself in." He felt assured that she had not been standing at the door long enough to have tested it and know if it actually had been locked or not.

The phone stopped ringing, and the answering machine responded to the caller. Hearing his taped message playing, Grissom began to panic. He walked quickly away, leaving Catherine at the door so he could get to the answering machine in time to turn it off with a flourish. It might have been an innocent sales call with no message to leave, or it quite possibly could have been Sara about to leave an incriminating message.

Grissom glanced around the room. Sara had not found or taken the time to move anything much more than clothing from her apartment to his townhouse by that point. They were taking it slowly and still maintaining both places for keeping up appearances. Any wayward guest making their way into Grissom's living space would not have suspected anything was amiss, providing they went no further into the house than the main living area. The bedroom, bathroom, and office all had little touches of Sara in them, mostly from joint shopping excursions to meld their tastes together and make the place a little brighter.

Catherine closed the door behind herself, walking fully into the townhouse. "Ooh, cooking breakfast for me? How'd you know I was coming over?"

Frowning, Grissom went back into the kitchen to finish chopping vegetables for the omelet he was preparing. After their conversation in his office, he had suspected, but not expected her to actually arrive at his home. "Though verbally unannounced, your visits are rarely a surprise, Catherine. But, I was preparing breakfast for myself."

"Awful lot of food for one person." The smirk reappeared on her face.

Grissom just pursed his lips in agitation. This was not at all the way he anticipated starting his day off. Sara was supposed to be there any minute, and he hoped upon everything that Sara recognized Catherine's car and stopped before she got inside. If she was not paying attention, the only other option was hoping that whatever errands she had gone out for did not require bringing anything incriminating home. God, he hoped Sara did not use her key, or rather that Catherine had not locked the door behind herself and forced Sara into using her key.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your company this morning, Ms. Willows?" Grissom finally asked after a few minutes of silence.

"I thought I'd hang out with my old friend like we used to. It's been a long time, Gil."

"Indeed, it has." Grissom kept his back to her as he worked at the stove.

Catherine sat at the bar and waited for him to throw the egg mixture in the frying pan and fill it with all the ingredients for one of his famous omelets. Grissom always did make the best one she had ever had. She gave herself a few minutes to watch him before walking over to the refrigerator. Catherine pulled the orange juice out of the refrigerator and the vodka from the freezer.

"Make yourself at home, Cath." Grissom did not want to appear inhospitable, but if she got any more inquisitive, it was likely that she would realize that a woman had been staying at his townhouse – a specific woman, at that. While the general items such as fruits and vegetables could be easily explained, the tofu, bean sprouts, and soymilk could prove more difficult.

"Relax. I'll make you one, too," she replied, pouring some of each liquid into the two glasses Grissom had gotten out of the cupboard instead of letting her rummage around further.

Trying the doorknob and finding it unlocked, Sara tensed a little, briefly feeling nervous. It was unlike Grissom to leave the door unlocked. Even when one of them was expecting the other to arrive home, the door was always locked. So, she pushed the door open and walked through like she did almost every day. Scanning the area with a critical eye, she slowly made her way far enough into the townhouse to shut the door carefully.

"Grissom?" Sara called out tentatively. Not fearing the worst, but hesitant nonetheless. Where normally she called him Gil at home, something warned her to be cautious.

"We're in the kitchen, Sara," he answered her calmly, expecting that she picked up the hint from the pronoun he used, indicating that he was not alone.

Catherine raised her eyebrows in question. She studied Grissom's posture as he continued to cook breakfast, but he gave nothing away. The odd thing was that he seemed unfazed by Sara's appearance – less than when Catherine had appeared unannounced. And, he was just as oddly unconcerned about her entering his personal space. Catherine turned her attention to the approaching brunette as she came around the corner.

"Hey, Cath." She looked from Catherine to Grissom. "Sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt anything. Your door..." She indicated behind herself with her thumb. "It was open. I figured I'd bring this by since I'm on my way home." Thinking on her feet, Sara put the folder she was carrying on the bar. She had brought it from the lab for her and Grissom to look over on their time off.

"Imagine meeting you here, Sara," Catherine replied coolly, sipping from her glass as she flipped her hair behind her shoulders. She assumed Grissom had called Sara for the case file, which explained his acceptance of her being in his abode. After almost an entire, and rather potent the way she made them, screwdriver, Catherine momentarily forget the key incident, but she did entertain the idea that it was why Grissom had been cooking breakfast.

"I'm making breakfast. Would you care to stay? I'm sure I have enough for three." Purposefully, keeping his face shielded from Catherine's intense watch, Grissom looked over his shoulder at Sara, looking distinctly sheepish and apologetic.

"I'd love to, but maybe some other time. I kinda made plans this morning. So, um... just call me if you have any questions... or anything about the case," she stammered, unable to think of how exactly to get out of the situation. Sara knew full well she would be unable to maintain her remote professionalism in her own house while Catherine was there.

"You sure, Sara? Grissom makes a mean omelet," Catherine tempted her.

Sara turned her attention to the blonde sitting on the stool, reclining on the edge of the bar. She bit her tongue thinking of all the things she could tell Catherine that she knew Grissom could cook and just how many meals they had had together. Besides that, she fought the urge to tell elder CSI to get the hell off of her barstool.

"Nah, really, but again, thanks. Like I said, I, uh, have plans. I'll be out, so if you call, call on my cell. I'll... see you later. Have a good breakfast." Sara shrugged her eyebrows for emphasis and turned to leave.

"Thank you. I appreciate you stopping by with the casefile." Grissom turned to face Sara, cutting the omelet and dropping each half onto its own plate.

"Not a problem. I'll take you up on the breakfast offer someday when I'm not otherwise distracted." Sara spoke wearily to them over her shoulder as she made her slow retreat. Over two weeks without a day off had left her tired and wanting to crawl into bed until her next shift started. Instead, she found herself resigned to leaving her home to find something to do until Catherine was gone. While she would never begrudge Grissom his friends, she was incredibly hungry and had been looking forward to that omelet since leaving the lab.

After Sara was gone, Catherine turned to Grissom, sliding his glass of the spiked orange juice across the bar towards him. Then, she settled on fixing another drink in her empty glass. "Noticed anything odd about Sara lately?" She asked bringing a forkful of food to her mouth.

"Not _odd_. I'd say she's... adjusted. Sara seems to have worked out the different aspects of her life and maybe found a good diversion." Grissom also began eating his food. The sooner they ate, the sooner he predicted Catherine would leave.

"That's a fair assessment. I can honestly say that in all the years she's been here, I've yet to see her this happy. Closest to this was when she arrived here, but that just seemed... more of a naïve happiness. Adjusted is... right." She took another bite. "You two seem to be getting along better these days."

Grissom chewed his food for a moment mulling over his choice of words. One eyebrow went up slightly. "She's always been a good friend. There have been ups and downs, but like any relationship worth its salt, it will last through the test of time."

"That's it?" Had Catherine not been sitting, she would have put her hands on her hips. Instead, she just frowned at him condescendingly.

"That's it." Grissom's tone may have indicated that the conversation was to come to an abrupt halt, but it did nothing to quell the thoughts in Catherine's mind.

Despite Grissom always having been reserved, Catherine considered herself to be one of his closest friends. He would not be Grissom if he spouted on about everything in his life, but it was hard to just let him get off with that. There had to be more to the conversation. Maybe they had agreed to disagree, but whatever it was, Catherine decided that at least the shift was more peaceful, and they seemed to be happy with their friendship.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	23. Your Call

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N –** My sincerest apologies. This one was a little more difficult to get written and submitted. The moment I was ready to submit the chapter, FF went "down." Stupid 'empty document' from Hell. Follow that with an unexpected business trip. I, being an idiot, thought this would be a two-day trip rather than a ten-day adventure and left my laptop at home. I got a friend to break into my house and e-mail me this chapter so you wouldn't have to wait until I got home on Monday. Thanks for reading! Also, an advance thank you for reviews.

* * *

Your Call

* * *

"Can't I just skip this one and go to another some other time?"

Grissom swiveled around in his office chair to watch Sara drop her suitcase on the floor beside the couch. He grimaced at the frown plastered on her face. "You can't avoid it forever. Continuing educational requirements are an inevitable occurrence in our line of work."

"Since when did we adopt the buddy system to attend these things?" Sara threw herself dejectedly onto the couch and crossed her arms across her chest.

Grissom sighed, "You're sulking." He turned back around to his laptop. "I would think most people would be happy to be there with someone they knew rather than being alone for a two-day seminar in a strange town."

"I'd rather be working," she huffed.

"I realize that." He paused for a moment and clicked the mouse a few times, opening his e-mail. "It'll give you a break from the routine."

Sara glared at the back of his head. "I'm just glad you're not sending me and Catherine together."

"I thought the two of you were getting along," he said flatly while reading some of his mail.

"We are, but I couldn't imagine sharing a room with her. I can work with her, but that doesn't mean I want to live with her, even if it is only, uh... eighty hours including the flight." Sara's tone softened slightly as she weighed her options. "At least with one of the guys, we have to get separate rooms."

"See, there is always a positive note to take into account." Grissom spoke as he continued to look over the e-mail, not seeing Sara roll her eyes at him. "It's your decision. Since it was a last-minutes opportunity, you can still opt not to go, but it might be the wisest option to just get it over with."

* * *

"Hey, Sar. It's past dinner time for normal people. You hungry? We could go down and get something to eat?" He used the remote to cut off the TV which had been nothing more than noise filler while he tried to nap and Sara read.

Sara looked up from the magazine she was reading to the man reclining on the other bed in her room. "Not really. I appreciate the offer, but I ate just a little while ago."

Warrick continued to stare at her. "You want to accompany me so I don't look like a fool sitting alone at the bar?"

Sara giggled lightly at him. She would never have taken her colleague as someone who would mind being alone for a few minutes in a hotel bar. They had been almost inseparable since they had left the lab at the end of their shift to head to the airport and check in for their three-hour flight. The ten hours they had been alone together up to that point had been an adventure in commiserating. Warrick, like Sara, had not wanted to go to this particular seminar, but he had relented when he found out he would not be alone on the trip. He really did have a distaste for traveling away from his comfort zone.

Although Sara found it endearing, she had not had a free moment to talk to Grissom at all that day. It had not been an exact plan to call him, but it had become such a normal occurrence for them to see each other that being away and not hearing his voice was bothering her. She had no real idea how well she was going to sleep that night, if at all.

Since the flight had left just a little while after getting off of shift, Grissom had gone home and to bed while the plane was in the air. Sara felt assured he would call her when he was getting up and ready for work that evening, and she wanted to be available.

"Sure. I wouldn't mind getting out of the room for a few minutes." She hopped up off the edge of the bed and started searching for her phone somewhere in the mangled bedspread where she had tossed it upon entering the room hours earlier. "Just let me find my phone, and we can get out of here."

"You waiting on a call?" he asked, wondering just why she would need a phone while away on a business trip too far from home to make a difference.

"No, not exactly. I just like to have it with me," she answered, getting aggravated at not finding the phone as quickly as she had hoped. Finally reaching her frustration level, Sara ripped the bedspread from the bed and shook it until the phone fell out onto the floor. "Call it force of habit, I guess."

Warrick watched her ball the bedspread up and toss it at the middle of the bed. Smirking at her eye roll, he said, "Force, you do have. I'd have to agree with you there. But, force of habit isn't what I'd call your OCD about the lab. You're far too attached to your job. Take some time to relax and enjoy life once in a while, ya know?"

Sara frowned at him. She wanted to tell him she could care less about the lab that minute, but she knew it would only spur more questions she was not willing or ready to answer. She still hated her friend and coworker looking at her like she was missing out on something integral in life when he did not have all the facts.

Finding the amusing part of the situation because she was in a stable relationship that no one suspected would ever reach fruition, her frown morphed into a small smile towards Warrick as she walked up to him. Grabbing his arm, Sara smiled fully. "Come on, then. Let's make the most out of our time away from the lab."

* * *

Three hours and a couple beers later, Sara and Warrick were having a grand time chatting it up with other people in town for the seminar. She would probably never admit it once she got home, but she was having a good time. Being with Grissom was everything she ever wanted, but it had been a long time since she had had so much fun. Warrick even seemed to let go of some of the troubles that had been weighing him down.

Sara sauntered up to the bar and leaned over to catch the eye of the bartender to order another round for the group of people gathered at her table. The shrill ringing of her phone caught her slightly off-guard. Warrick, enjoying the freedom of being away from the lab and in friendly company, ambled up behind her and grabbed the phone from her belt.

Turning his body sideways before Sara was able to grab the phone from him, Warrick laughed at her feeble attempts to wrestle it from his grasp. He ignored the glare she was shooting at him and answered the call. "Sidle's phone."

"_Uh, Warrick? Why are you answering Sara's phone?" Grissom asked hesitantly. While he wanted nothing more than to hang up and pretend that he had not called, he knew his number would be on her Caller ID, and it would raise more suspicion that way._

"Because she's too busy flirting with the bartender to answer," he joked and winked at Sara, flinching slightly when she answered with a punch in the shoulder.

"I'm not flirting," she protested loudly enough to be heard into the phone. "Give me the phone, now, Brown."

"_Just tell her I called and ask her to call me back when she's... not otherwise occupied. It's, uh, about the case she was working before she left." Grissom sputtered before hanging up on Warrick suddenly._

Warrick snapped her phone shut and handed it to her. "Grissom sends his love," he teased, a large smile adorning his face.

"What'd he say, Warrick?" she demanded lightly, taking the phone out of his hand.

Warrick offered her a crooked smile and swayed slightly, bracing himself against the bar. "You're either overly happy or slightly cranky when you get a few drinks in ya."

"Well," she replied bitterly, squinting her eyes at him, "you'd better tell me now before I switch to homicidal."

* * *

She called his cell phone three times before finally giving up and leaving a message when the last call was not answered. Sara shifted uneasily in her chair, trying hard to follow the conversation going on around her. She realized that the rest of the group played no part in her missing Grissom's call, and did not want to weigh the impromptu party down.

"I think I'm going to call it a night, guys," she finally stated at midnight and stood from the table.

Groans from everyone around the table were not stopping her as she forced herself to apologize and promise to see them all in the morning and go out to dinner with them the next evening. Warrick started to follow along, but she stopped him, telling him to have a good time and promising him a wake-up call in enough time to get to the first lecture on time.

Unable to find the ability to go to sleep, Sara sat in her room watching infomercials for two hours. Her usual insomnia coupled with her distaste for hotel rooms and adding in the missing Grissom factor, Sara found she was fighting just to stay in her hotel room. Looking around and getting annoyed at the dismal nature, she decided to take a walk, starting at the vending machines down the hall by the stairwell.

Fighting with her dollar bill to stay in the slot so she could make a purchase, Sara felt her phone vibrating against her hip. After the incident with Warrick in the bar earlier, Sara turned the ringer off so no one else would be privy to the fact that she was receiving a call. She slid a different bill into the slot as she flipped her phone open and put it to her ear.

"Hey," she breathed into the phone.

"_Having a good time at the conference?" he asked, his voice slightly perturbed._

Sara scoffed at him. "I'm sorry about earlier. Warrick didn't—"

_Grissom laughed, cutting off her remarks further. "Honey, you don't have to explain anything to me. I'm glad you're not still sulking."_

Sara stared at the selection behind the vending machine glass. Deciding on the particular snack she wanted, she pushed the letters and numbers corresponding to her item in the machine. The granola bar fell down into the drawer, concealing the sound of the stairway door opening behind her from across the hallway. "How'd you know I was still going to be up this late?"

"_I know you. It's highly doubtful you're going to lie on the bed in the hotel room, let alone actually curl up and sleep on it."_

Sara smirked at her own reflection. The man really did know her too well. "So, how's work?"

"_Paperwork mostly. I got called to the body farm. It was the highlight of my day."_

"I bet it was. I've wanted to go since I got to Vegas. One day when we're off on the same night, I swear you're going to take me." She toyed with the buttons absentmindedly on the front of the machine, not seeing the door behind her held open a few inches for someone eavesdropping on her conversation. "So, how'd it go?"

_Grissom smiled even though she was unable to see that from the other end of the telephone connection. "Just identified some insects for them. Nothing impressive, I assure you. What have you found to keep yourself busy?"_

"You already know about me and Warrick going downstairs to the bar. Met a few other attendees. Other than that, I've been watching ridiculous products being hawked with the intent of targeting impulse-driven individuals and separating them with their money so they can spur the capitalistic economy we live in. Selections on TV really are sparse in the middle of the night."

"_Did you buy anything?" he chuckled._

"Of course not," she huffed in response and leaned her shoulder against the edge of the machine. "You know, I'm going to miss the episodes of _The New Detectives_ on TLC this Sunday while I'm flying back."

"_You're going to miss the episode of 'Deadly Bugs' as well," he added teasingly, "I'll tape it for you."_

"You'd tape it anyway." Sara smiled, but turned serious and accusing. "Hey, you better tape them all and not just the bug one."

The door opened fully behind her. Warrick had gotten restless of standing in the stairwell. Walking up behind her, he spotted the bar in the tray of the vending machine. Reaching in, he startled Sara, causing her to spin around and stare at him open-mouthed. Warrick straightened up and handed the snack towards her.

"Uh..." Sara's eyes narrowed, and she was completely still except for her lips trying to form words that her mind was unable to fathom. Finally, her hand responded to grab the bar from Warrick, even though she still had yet to make any coherent words.

Warrick grinned at her befuddled expression. "Sorry to interrupt. See you in the morning." He turned and shook his head lightly from side to side as he sauntered down the hall to his room.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	24. Another PlusOne

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N –** To quote Mark Twain, "The rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated." Guys, I'm so sorry that there was such a long wait between chapters. Work is evil. Evil, I tell you, Evil! Not to whine, but just to let you know that it wasn't intentional to not write and post this chapter, but I have worked more hours than I care to mention. And, throw in some real life drama, and I just couldn't get anything typed. So, thanks for sticking with me. Hope it was worth the wait. We're not at the end yet...

* * *

Another Plus-One

* * *

"Hey, Mr. Grissom. You here to pick up Sara's stuff?" 

Grissom eyed the clerk wearily. It had been a long shift on top of an already long week, and that type of inane question grated on his nerves. Suppressing his urge to point out that it was the obvious reason to be standing in the dry cleaning store, he settled for merely squinting his eyes and responding with a nod of his head.

Grissom looked at his reflection in the mirror behind the counter as James wandered off to the back room to collect the clothes Sara had left there a few days earlier. He sighed, and his reflection seemed to be mocking him with an almost heavier sigh. Realizing that he was taking out his frustration and tiredness on the rest of the world with undue reason, Grissom reasoned with himself to rein in his snippiness a little more.

James returned quickly. "Here ya are, Mr. Grissom," he said as he hoisted the clothing onto the rack beside the counter. "It'll be $19.68."

Grissom hated being called Mr. Grissom by the kid, and he had asked him multiple times to stop, but it never seemed to work. Spending his time finding the right bills in his wallet, Grissom did not make eye contact with the young man. He handed over a twenty and a five. "Keep the change, James. I appreciate you getting these ready so fast."

"It was my pleasure." James nodded his head for emphasis and blushed a little. "You're nice people. It's only fair to return the favor." His smile was wide, seemingly stretching from ear to ear.

For a moment, Grissom considered his options. He mulled the thought over in his mind, letting it fester until words were finally able to spill out. "James, are you busy this weekend? Saturday night in particular."

James' eyes rolled upwards in thought. "Nope. Can't say I am. Not much happening since I filed for divorce."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Grissom replied earnestly.

"Nah. Best thing that happened to me in years. The soon-to-be-ex and I've talked more since we filed the paperwork than we did in our five years of marriage. We're good friends... but made a terrible couple," James explained with an almost bounce in his step.

"Well, if you're not otherwise occupied, would you mind escorting Sara to a formal dinner party?"

"I'd be honored. It'll get me out of the house for a couple of hours. Just let me know when and where and I'll be there," the young man practically gushed, causing Grissom to wonder if it really was a good idea to ask him.

"Either I or Sara will call you with the details in the next couple days. Just have a tuxedo ready."

"Already got one of those." James beamed, tilting himself a little forward on the balls of his feet. "Got one in the back someone never picked up. Should be about the right size. I've just been waiting on a reason to wear it."

Grissom grimaced a ghost of a smile. Some things were better left unsaid.

* * *

"Were you in your left mind when you set this up? Because I know you weren't in your right mind." Her voice dripping with sarcasm, Sara seated herself on a chair in front of Grissom's desk. 

Grissom got up and walked around his desk with the intent to shut the door. Having Sara confront him about a re-scheduled night off for a formal banquet was one thing, but he was quite sure this was going to evolve into her finding out about her date to said event.

When Sara ignored his presence lingering at the door rather than returning to his desk, Grissom drew in a deep breath and steadied himself for her explosion. What floored him the most was her quiet unease. It seemed like a calm building of molten lava just looking for the right time and place to spew out and burn everyone else.

"Sara..." he started, unable to make a coherent sentence, or any words other than her name that was nothing more than a sigh, for that matter.

"Don't waste your energy, boss." Sara turned her head to look over her shoulder at him and pursed her lips in thought. "I'll go..." She hesitated while she watched a hopeful look pass through Grissom's eyes. "...but only if I'm on-call that night." She stood triumphantly beside the chair. Her hands on her hips and slightly raised eyebrow offered the challenge. "I want a way out of this thing if it gets too much to handle."

Grissom smirked and reviewed the situation quickly. She would have been one horrible poker player. Sara just put all of her cards on the table before he even had time to put down a bet. Realizing if he agreed to this quickly, she would feel bound by the agreement and still go no matter what else he told her.

"Okay," he acquiesced as he walked past her and to his chair behind his desk. "I'll put your name on the on-call schedule for that evening, along with my own. I'm sure everyone else will be pleased that they won't have to do it."

Without acknowledging his proximity, Sara had watched him slide past her. Once he was completely behind his desk, she spun around to face him. Frowning, she gave him a stern stare. "I've changed my mind. You agreed too quickly, and I don't think this is such a good idea any longer."

"Too late, dear." He grinned lecherously up at her, knowing full well what he was about to say would irritate her to no end. "James will pick you up at seven since we're supposed to arrive at eight."

Sara narrowed her gaze at him as she fully realized what he had done. "I—... You're sleeping on the couch for a week." She watched as Grissom started to open his mouth to protest, but she stopped him quickly. "Don't give me any crap about your back or your knees. You fall asleep there at the time."

Grissom gave her a mock-hurt look. "I was merely going to say that I would be more than happy to sleep there, but only if you were with me."

"Not a chance, pal. You're not going to sweet-talk your way out of this one." Sara offered him a sickeningly sweet smile and abruptly swung his door open and marched out into the hall.

* * *

Affixing herself almost permanently to Grissom's arm, Catherine glanced around the dining room. Silently, she thanked God that the Las Vegas Police Department was too cheap to put up the gaudy decorations she had been expecting. Her eyes scanned the room, recognizing a group of lab techs huddled together beside the drink table, as well as a couple of politicians, the undersheriff, the sheriff, and high-ranking city officials mingling with other attendees. Diligently looking until she spotted the group consisting of the nightshift boys, Catherine tugged on Grissom's arm. 

While his date dragged him in one direction, his eyes held a faraway look, focusing on some random and uninteresting spot on the far wall of the other side of the room. Much unlike the last time he was required to attend one of these functions, Grissom was not being forced to give a speech of any kind. That was the one part he was thankful for.

"You look good, Gil," Catherine whispered as they passed a group of attendees. The light elevator music playing in the background did nothing to obscure conversations. "You did very well with your tie." She glanced sideways at him, attempting to gauge his reaction.

Without looking in her direction, Grissom narrowed his eyes and frowned lightly in response to her query. "It's amazing what a scientist can do with a good set of instructions."

"Directions didn't help you last time," she chided him. "It takes a woman to do it right."

Grissom pursed his lips together, suppressing the urge to smile. He remembered distinctly how it had taken a female scientist to do it right. Sara had pressed her body seductively against his back as she wrapped her arms around his neck when she saw the difficulty he was having with his tie. He blamed the directions for being vague and unhelpful, but Sara had followed them to near-perfect results.

"Hey, guys," Nick greeted the pair after spotting them over Greg's shoulder, causing Greg and Warrick to turn and acknowledge them as well.

They found themselves engaging in small talk, staring out into the crowds of people, until Grissom felt a hand graze along the middle of his back. Turning, he came face to face with his girlfriend, who was hanging on the arm of another man. Even though he had seen her before he left to pick up Catherine, Grissom found himself giving her a once-over.

The rest of the group turned to see Sara, her hand in the crook of James' elbow, standing there. Catherine was the first to find her voice, as the male members of the group stood in shock and awe of their coworker and her appearance in a dress, but more importantly she was on the arm of a man. "Sara, you made it. You look stunning."

Swiveling her hips a little to make the black silky material flow around her legs, Sara threw a flirty smile towards the crew. "Thanks, Cath. You look good yourself. As do all of you guys." She turned her eyes towards Grissom. "Gris, Cath, I'm sure you remember my date, but for the rest of you, this is James."

Polite introductions of everyone were made, and James went off to get a drink for himself and Sara. Warrick went to retrieve Tina from the group of EMTs she had been spending her time with. Nick and Greg just stood there waiting on someone else to make conversation until the silence became too much.

"I didn't know you were dating anyone, Sara," Greg finally said, glancing hesitantly towards Grissom.

"Appearances can be deceiving," Sara responded vaguely.

"From the little time I spent with the two of you, he just didn't seem your, uh... type," Catherine prodded her.

Sara fashioned a disgusted look on her face. "I have a type?"

Everyone's eyes were involuntarily drawn towards Grissom before looking quickly away. James walked back up to the small group at that moment and offered one of the glasses in his hands to Sara.

"Thank you, sweetheart," she replied automatically as she accepted the glass of punch. Only after she realized her choice of wording did she look slightly stricken. Grissom's head turned, and his mouth started to open until he realized that was not addressing him. They silently acknowledged the slip and looked away from each other.

"I'm, uh, going to go find someone to mingle with," Nick offered as he started to walk away. The nervous tension was starting to wear on him.

"I'm going with you. I didn't come to this thing dateless with the intent of remaining that way," Greg added, following along.

The four of them that were left watched the two guys walk away. Catherine glanced at Grissom, who was looking at Sara, who was trying her best to not look uncomfortable. Brass ambled up to the group and positioned himself in between Grissom and Sara.

"Nice monkey suit, Gil," Brass observed of his friend. "I guess we dressed appropriately to sit in a roomful of monkeys for a couple of hours."

"Don't insult the monkeys, Jim," Grissom reprimanded him jokingly. "They're a few steps higher on the evolutionary scale than some of the individuals here tonight."

Sara smirked and pursed her lips to hide it. "I thought you were on-call tonight, Brass."

"So are you and Gil. Doesn't mean we can avoid this thing."

"I certainly didn't want to be here," Sara complained before she realized she should introduce her date to the detective.

Brass scrutinized the young man for a few seconds before offering his hand in a sign of approval. James shook his hand firmly, accepting the warning that the older man was issuing. Sensing the affection that the captain had for Sara, James felt it would be better to play along for her sake.

Brass looked at Sara, genuinely inspecting her. "Sara, would you mind making the rounds with me?"

"You're a big boy. Why do I have to go with you?" she argued.

"Because I would like to walk around the room with a beautiful woman on my arm. C'mon." He held out his hand, not taking no for an answer.

Sara agreed, and when they were far enough away from Grissom, Catherine, and James, she stopped him. "What's this about, Jim?"

Not wasting a beat, Brass answered. "What's the deal with you two?"

"Us two who?" Sara asked, but grimaced when she realized she sounded a little like Dr. Seuss.

"Don't play dumb. Your IQ is too high to do that." The detective shook his head at her choice of words and need for him to identify who he was talking about.

"James and I have been on a few dates. He's a nice guy," Sara replied, hoping it was James, and not Grissom, that Brass was referring to.

"He take good care of you?" Brass asked, concern evident in his voice. "All I know about him is that you asked me to pull some strings to make a ticket of his disappear."

"We've been out on a few dates. I didn't profess my love to him." Sara gave him a stern stare and quickly looked away. "Why the sudden concern about my personal life?"

"Let's just say that I'm trying to be more invested in my friends' lives these days."

"I'm fine, Jim. Seriously, I've never been better." Giving him a thankful smile, Sara grabbed his arm and began leading him towards the refreshments. "Let's get a drink."

"Only if it has alcohol in it," he said dryly.

"Yeah," Sara scoffed, "Like the city's going to spring for the good stuff."

Across the room, Catherine was busy watching Grissom watch Sara. His nonchalance was saying more than he could have with words. There was no disguising the desire and disapproval in his gaze when he had looked at Sara on James' arm.

"So, uh... How have you been?" James asked to no one in particular, but it was evident the question was directed towards Catherine. "I haven't seen you in a while."

Catherine tore her eyes away from Grissom. "I've been fine. No time to complain when there are dead bodies piling up in Vegas," she replied a little too sourly.

James was taken aback by her tone. He knew from the other time he had spent with her that she could be short, but he had not been on the receiving end until that moment. Knowing a little about the relationship and work dynamic Grissom and Sara were in, he assumed it had something to do with her disapproval of him being with Sara. He allowed the light background music to fill the silence Catherine's statement had made.

"James, we..." Grissom turned to face the young man as he mentally switched gears. "I hope you're not too put out by attending this event tonight. It is, by far, not your typical night on the town."

He had dealt enough with Grissom to be able to read between the lines. It was a thank you for escorting Sara and an apology for Catherine's behavior. Smiling sheepishly, James nodded his head once.

"You're the first date that Sara's ever brought around for any of us to meet." Catherine was fishing for information, and all three of them knew it. "It begs the question why."

James took the statement in stride. "I consider what Sara and I have as a very unusual relationship. It's not just your average girlfriend and boyfriend thing."

Grissom raised an eyebrow in response to the man's response. He stopped scanning the crowd, looking for Sara, for a few seconds as he considered the answer. It was truthful and very vague, and Grissom realized he could not have asked for more. Not seeing Sara, Grissom turned back to his two companions.

After a few minutes of polite conversation, they were interrupted by the Sheriff and his aide. Two sentences into the conversation, and James had begun making a small scene. Grissom realized too late that James was a little too strongly opinionated about the way he believed Law Enforcement was supposed to behave. The conversation was far too animated for his liking, and he did not want to get involved, even peripherally.

He spotted Sara over in the crowd. Making a quick apology, he walked away from the group and grabbed Sara's elbow, steering her away from Brass. A quick glare in the detective's direction, and Brass raised his hands in surrender, allowing Sara to be led away.

"What do you think you're doing?" Her voice, though a whisper, was laced with concern and distrust.

"We need to have a conversation." Grissom glanced from side to side looking for an adequately secluded place to talk. "Away from prying eyes."

Sara frowned but followed dutifully along. Reaching the other side of the room, Grissom located a door to an outside balcony. Ushering Sara along with his hand hovering along the small of her back, he led her to the door and held it open while she preceded him outside.

Barely waiting until the door was closed, Sara voiced her concerns as she crossed her arms over her stomach. "What was so important that you practically made a scene dragging me outside?"

Grissom closed the distance of a few feet that had separated them, his chest nearly touching hers once she dropped her arms to her sides. His eyes danced over her face and fell to rest on her lips. "I want to kiss you right now."

Sara smirked at the ridiculousness of the comment. Despite how much she wanted the same thing, she felt a small giggle rise up before she pursed her lips to regain her composure. "I'm not so sure that's a wise idea."

"I know it's not. That's why I didn't." He continued to stare at her lips. "Why are we here again?"

Sara took a step backwards and turned towards the railing. Slowly walking to the edge, she leaned on the railing and looked down at the bright lights adorning The Strip. Grissom followed closely behind and placed his hand in the middle of her back. Leaning his chest against her arm, he attempted to draw her as close as he could get without crossing too many personal boundaries while at a work function.

"No matter how gaudy the place looks, I never tire of looking at it. It's captivating, really. There's always something happening down there... It's busy, and alive. You'd never know that death was lurking around the corner," Sara mused.

"Blissful ignorance. You can't dwell on the bad or you'll never allow yourself to enjoy the pleasures that are out there."

Sara leaned back against him. "I have all the pleasure I need... and it's right here with me."

Moments later, after savoring the peace and quiet of each other's company, Grissom realized they should return to the main room before someone noticed they had been missing. He ushered Sara back inside. Allowing her to go first, she headed straight through the room and back towards the group Grissom had left behind. Grissom turned the other way and headed to the table holding the refreshments.

Lifting a cup of punch up to his lips, he was interrupted by Catherine. "That was rude, Gil."

He finished the sip and turned his head sideways to glance at her. "I'm sorry. Would you like a glass as well?"

She scoffed at him and forced herself not to look undignified by placing her hands on her hips. "Whatever you had to say to her could've waited until after the party. Just because you're not enjoying yourself doesn't mean that you need to ruin it for everyone."

"I didn't ruin anything," he defended himself. Immediately, Grissom could tell this was going to be an intense conversation, and he was thankful that the background music was just loud enough to make it difficult to eavesdrop on a conversation.

"Sara came storming over and told James they were leaving. She made some pathetic excuse and made her exit before any of the team could convince her otherwise." Catherine continued to stare at Grissom.

"Catherine, I—" He started to object, but his cell phone chirped, interrupting his thoughts. He glanced down at the display and spied a text message from Sara. _Left early. Come home._

He grinned at the display, causing Catherine to sigh heavily. "Getting called in?"

"No," he answered her distractedly as he typed a response. _Still on-call for 1 hour._

Catherine assumed it was still work-related and continued to berate Grissom for his supposed treatment of Sara until he received another text message. _Get here and shift will be over._

He offered an apologetic look in Catherine's general direction. "I appreciate your concern on the matter, but I didn't intentionally cause Sara to leave. She probably just wanted to enjoy her time off."

"Her boyfriend's bothering you, isn't he?"

Grissom offered no response to her loaded question. "I think I'm going to call it a night as well."

"Typical. You get some results on a case, and you run off." She put pretenses aside and placed her hands on her hips that time. "You really do need to get out more, Gil. Life's too short to be spending it locked up in your office. We've had this conversation before."

"Yes, we have. Some things never change, Catherine... And some do."

Grissom gave her an enigmatic smile and turned to saunter off towards the exit. Catherine found herself staring after him, a decidedly confused look on her face.

* * *

To Be Continued... 


	25. Not My Day

_Disclaimer_: Please refer to the first chapter. I can't think of something new to say with each chapter. I'm just not that creative...

* * *

**A/N – **Words cannot appropriately express how sorry I am that it has taken me this long to update. I will not bore you with details, but I will say that there was a lot of drama on a personal front. I'm still working through some of it, but the worst of it is... well, over. I hope to get everything back on track relatively soon.

I want to express my thanks to everyone who has hung in here. I also want to thank those people who've asked about the fic and were concerned about it ever reaching finality. Also, I want to extend a round of thanks to the newcomers who've happened along after such a time without an update. I hope that the fic lives up to your expectations. And, I especially want to thank **gsr4ever** for prodding me to keep writing, reminding me that people were waiting, listening to me whine, grumble, and complain, and letting me bounce ideas off of her. She's a pineapple!

* * *

Not My Day

* * *

Sara stepped up to the swinging doors leading into the morgue. Bending slightly and grabbing the hem of her lab coat, she began to snap it together from the bottom up.

"Are you ready to proceed, my dear?" Grissom asked after Sara's third attempt to get the two sides of the snap to fit together failed.

A light frown of annoyance gave way to a pursed grin as she glanced up at her boss. "These things are easier to take off than put on," she grumbled.

"As are a lot of things." Grissom paused the briefest of seconds to glance down the hallway. "I would offer to help, but... unbuttoning is preferable."

A slight blush rose on Sara's cheeks as she tucked her chin to her chest in an effort to hide it. She worked to remove the smile from her face, but it was definitely winning the battle.

Sound and movement from inside the morgue caught Grissom's attention. As a hand made contact with the inside of the door to force it outward, Grissom moved quickly to pull Sara out of the way. The action was enough to get her out of harm's way of the swinging door, but not enough to keep her from getting plowed into by the newest Swing Shift CSI.

As his body came crashing through the door and subsequently into Sara, his hand flew to his mouth. His attempts to quell the reaction of his stomach after seeing the dead body on the table were for naught as he threw up all over Sara's shirt and lab coat. The grin on her face was long gone, and the blush on her face had turned redder from shock.

"God, Henson, there are places to throw up inside. Why'd you come out here?" Sara asked disgustedly. Her fingers gripped the edges of her outer garment and pulled it out to survey the extent of damage. The newest CSI mumbled an excuse, interrupted by heaves again, as he began to skitter down the hallway.

Sara looked over at Grissom, a mixture of anguish and amusement on his face. Sara swung her head around to look at David, who was holding the door open after the other occupant's hasty exit.

"I'm sorry, Sara. I didn't know you we—" David began to explain.

"It's okay, David," Sara comforted the nervous coroner's assistant. Dropping her hands to her sides, she sighed heavily. "I'm going to go change. Then, we can try this again." Turning an icy stare towards Grissom, Sara added, "Don't you dare even think of starting that DB without me."

* * *

Freshly showered and changed, Sara was on her way back to the morgue. Passing by the garage, she spied Greg's legs sticking out from under a gold Pontiac Sunfire. He appeared to be struggling with something on the undercarriage. She hesitated a moment to consider the body waiting on the table in the basement.

"Having trouble, Greg?" she asked, taking a few steps into the room.

The young CSI responded with a disgusted grunt. Sara watched as Greg's gloved fingers gripped the edge of the chassis to yank himself and the wheeled cart he was on out from under the vehicle. "Tell me why I'm doing this, again," he accused.

A frown took over Sara's face for the briefest of seconds. "You have to learn sometime."

His fingers, still gripping the rocker panel of the car pulled his upper body back under the car. "I can't learn anything if I don't know what I'm doing," he grumbled in return.

Sara grinned at his innocence and the dirt smudges on his face. "Trial and error, Greggo."

The clanging of tools on the chassis of the car caused Sara to realize that Greg might truly be in need of assistance. Again considering the body and people waiting on her, Sara sat down on the floor beside Greg's legs. Without touching the car, she laid herself down and scooted under the body of the vehicle to see what Greg was doing.

"Okay. I'm supposed to be in the morgue, but I'll give you five minutes. Tell me what you're doing and what you need to do."

Greg gave her a goofy grin of thanks and waved with a wrench towards some random spot on the underside of the car. "I need to get the gas tank off so I can check it for additional residue, foreign substances, or objects. I think the perp put something in there to cause it difficulty running." He went back to work twisting a wrench on a bolt.

Sara blinked once, twice, three times. She looked from the gas tank to the oil pan to Greg. "I'm sure that's a good theory, but it might help if you were actually working on the gas tank."

"Huh?" Greg said distractedly as he continued to work on the bolt.

"You can't drop the gas tank if you're removing the bolts that hold up the oil pan." Her amusement was making itself known in her voice.

One final twist and the proof of her words was sloshing all over Greg. The oil oozed down his neck and chest and came pooling at his sides, ultimately running into Sara's fresh clothing.

Very calmly, she twisted her head to look at Greg's dejected face. "This was my only set of clean clothes in the building. You owe me, Sanders." She thought briefly about how she could have gotten oil or gas in her eyes because she was not using protective eyewear and how her shirt was ruined with the oil because she was not wearing a smock. Overwhelmingly, however, she found herself amused by the mortified look on Greg's face.

"I didn't—"

"I know," she answered. "And, another little tidbit for you: Don't let used oil stay on your skin for a prolonged period of time. It contains elements which can be unhealthy for your skin and could also even cause cancer."

"I'll go shower and get back out here to it, I guess."

"No," Sara directed, shaking her head. "I'm going to go shower and change. You're going to clean up this mess. I'll let you know when I'm done."

"But, what about... _the cancer_?" he asked, acting concerned.

"Suck it up, Greg. You'll be okay for ten minutes. You'll be exposed to far more hazardous things in this line of work than that." She grinned evilly in his direction. "Like me if you ever do something like this to me, again."

* * *

Grissom leaned over the table. He maneuvered himself closer to the object of his attention than he probably should have for safety reasons. His goggles firmly in place, however, gave him a sense of security.

Normally not a place for experiments of a caustic nature, Grissom's office was the only place that had provided him uninterrupted bliss, the peace and quiet he had desired. Peering out through the slits in the blinds, Grissom wondered again if it was actually a good idea to handle the acidic compound in the less than perfect testing environment.

"Grissom," Hodges intoned slimily, interrupting Grissom's train of thought. "That report I gave you earlier... Can I have another look at it? There's something that doesn't seem quite right."

Ungrateful for the interruption, Grissom leaned over the desk and picked a file folder up from the pile on the corner of his desk. His hip touched the edge of the desk as he reached over the cement block he had been looking at. Flipping through a few papers, Grissom found what he was looking for and pulled it from the file. Handing it over to the technician, Grissom peered wearily at him over the top of the rims of his glasses.

"Thanks," the lab rat replied. He began to mumble incoherently as he perused the words on the paper in his hand.

"Do you think you could take that elsewhere? I'm busy, and I'd prefer to be alone," Grissom asked bitterly.

Hodges frowned but did as he was asked. Grissom watched the younger man walk away before turning back to his work. He eased himself down into his chair to continue looking at the experiment in the middle of his desk. He leaned back to relax for a moment while he noted the time that had elapsed in a notebook.

Moments later, Grissom leapt to his feet. His hands firmly planted on the desk steadied him as he peered at the hunk of cement he had been testing. There was a small area on one corner and edge of the block which had been wiped clean of the acid which was lying there before sinking in. Reflexively, the CSI looked down at the edge of his shirt.

Sighing, Grissom hung his head. It was no time to hesitate, but the damage to his shirt was already done. It was damp on the lower front side, right above his belt. He was quite sure that once it was washed, the destruction would be evidenced by a hole. Realizing he needed to get the clothing off before his skin was affected as well, he walked out of his office. Carefully, he closed his office door so no one else would disturb the experiment while he was away.

He unbuttoned and removed his shirt once he was safely tucked away inside the locker room. Standing there, shirtless, Grissom opened his locker door and tossed the shirt into the bottom. He removed his spare windbreaker and stared at the blank space of the locker. He knew he had hung a shirt in there a while back, but he could not remember if he had used it or took it home for washing.

Closing his eyes, Grissom resorted to calling for some assistance. He pulled his phone from his pocket and dialed a familiar number. Two rings and it was answered professionally, as if the person on the other end of the phone had company.

"I need a favor. Are you busy?"

* * *

"Hey, Grissom, Greg," Nick greeted his boss and coworker as he entered the breakroom.

Grissom looked up from the file he was reading to watch the younger CSI plop down in a chair tiredly. "Hello, Nick."

Greg continued to measure the coffee grounds to perfection before placing them in the filter to brew a pot of his finest roast. Acknowledging Nick's presence, he waved and hand and called over his shoulder, "Hi."

Catherine followed closely behind. She looked just as tired as Nick, if not more so. She remained mute and followed the Texan's lead and dropped herself into one of the chairs opposite Grissom as well. The noise caused Warrick to open his eyes and look over from his reclined position on the couch. For the first time since Grissom had entered the room, that was the first time Warrick had even moved.

"It's been a horrible shift," Nick complained, "We can't find anything to tie the boyfriend to the missing girl."

"Maybe he didn't do it, Nick," Catherine offered. "He was the most likely suspect. Hell, I liked him for it. We'll keep looking. There's always something."

"Even if he didn't do it, he knows something, and he's not talk—" Nick abruptly stopped talking as he just stared at Grissom.

As if realizing the halt in conversation related to him, Grissom glanced up. "What?"

"What in God's name are you wearing?" Catherine asked, giving voice to Nick's thought as Greg turned around and leaned against the counter to see what was happening.

Grissom looked down at his chest. After he had changed earlier, the shirt had not even crossed his mind. He had not wanted to wear it to begin with, but necessity had caused him to give in. It was a plain white men's dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to the elbow and buttoned up appropriately. The shirt may have been a little large, but it was not too much of an eyesore.

"Brass' shirt," he answered simply, as if it explained everything.

"And you would be wearing it, why?" she asked, obviously curious as to why Grissom would voluntarily wear someone else's shirt.

"I was testing a theory on my case. We couldn't get an accurate TOD because of the damage the acid combined with the sun caused on the body, but I thought the acid on the concrete might be of some value in creating a timeline."

"That relates to your shirt, how?" Catherine continued to grill him, the boys on the team watching the exchange with amusement.

"I inadvertently got some acid on my shirt. I thought I had a spare in my locker, but I must've been mistaken. I had to change into something. Brass offered," he answered with finality. Grissom was through explaining his fashion choices to the people in the room.

"Not the blue shirt you were wearing earlier in the shift," Sara called out from the doorway, having arrived unnoticed by the rest of the room's occupants. Her words were a mixture of a question and a statement, a little hope thrown in for good measure.

Grissom kept his eyes trained on the folder in his hands. "Yes, that shirt." He was afraid to look her in the eye. Sara liked that shirt more than some of his others. The fact that she had bought it for him played a little more heavily on his mind than he liked.

"Speaking of fashion statements, girl," Warrick spoke, joining the conversation for the first time. "You've been wearing that lab coat all day. What gives?"

"I—" Sara, still standing in the doorway, looked down at herself self-consciously. "I... had to change earlier."

"The shirt you were wearing after your incident in the morgue looked fine," Nick assured her.

"Oh," Sara tried to decide how to continue. "I had to change again." She met Greg's gaze purposefully. She would keep the secret from the team, but she was not going to let Greg forget what happened.

"What could be so hideous that you'd want to hide it all night?" the blond CSI asked, finding the unfortunate circumstances of her coworkers entertaining.

"It's just not something I'd normally wear." She hesitated and frowned slightly at the group. "Look, it's just a shirt. Let's move on."

"Not until you show us the shirt," Warrick ordered.

"Does it have little bunnies on it? Flowers? Hearts?" Nick speculated while watching Sara's face scrunch up in disgust at each wrong guess.

"Chemical equations?" Greg added, grinning.

"That'd be your shirt, Sanders," Nick joked at his friend's expense.

"Hey!" Greg feigned offense and defended himself. "That's a perfectly good shirt."

"I've, uh, got work to do," Sara said as she turned to walk down the hallway.

"Not so fast, sunshine," Nick announced. "C'mon. Just let us see the shirt, and we'll leave you alone."

Sara twisted back around as she peered at him and pursed her lips. She was clearly considering it. After a small sigh of concession and what appeared to be careful deliberation, Sara came to a conclusion. Knowing that they would badger her until she showed them, her mind was made up. She gripped the front of the lab coat, one hand on each edge to pull the snaps apart. Like a flasher committing a crime, she gave the coat a solid tug and held the snapping edges out to her sides.

Nothing could have prepared the group for what they were seeing. Each one of them, Grissom included, just stared at her. Although no jaws dropped in shock, the confusion was apparent. Maybe they had been imagining something sultry, something revealing, something hideous, something childish, something embarrassing, but none were expecting to see a plain dark gray polo shirt. It was a designer label, but nonetheless still a regular polo shirt.

"Not exactly your size, Sara," Nick stated the obvious after seeing it hanging on her almost as loosely as the lab coat.

"Where'd you get a shirt like that?" Greg asked, digging for information.

Sara carefully kept her eyes from meeting Grissom's gaze. "Happy now, everyone?"

"Gil, that looks like the shirt I bought you to replace the one that was ruined last month when you covered my shift," Catherine accused her friend.

"Similar," the man in question responded, a slight bit of amusement in his voice.

Catherine looked upon Grissom skeptically. "I could've sworn I saw you putting it in your locker last week."

Sara rolled her eyes and let the edges of the coat go. She shook her head and spun on her heels. The lab coat hung at her sides loosely and swayed with the air as she walked down the hallway and away from the gossip she knew was likely to ensue.

* * *

To Be Continued...


End file.
